


Mage Story: Sacrifice (NEW: Explicit Version)

by IncompleteHack



Category: Dragon Age (Comics), Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Character Death, Death, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heartache, Heartbreak, Love, Murder, Revenge, Romance, Sexual Content, True Love, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violence, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:28:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 28,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22603243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncompleteHack/pseuds/IncompleteHack
Summary: After her friend's betrayal and her lover's death, Sasha Amell thought that the world had proven to be nothing but pain and sadness. But when she is faced with a terrible choice of her own, she finally understands. It is in the deepest darkness that a light shines the brightest.
Relationships: Alistair/Amell, Alistair/Female Amell, Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair/Warden (Dragon Age), Amell/Cullen Rutherford, Cullen Rutherford/Female Mage Warden, Cullen Rutherford/Female Warden, Cullen Rutherford/Warden, Duncan/Female Warden, Female Amell/Cullen Rutherford, Female Amell/Duncan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. The Harrowing

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Mage Story: Sacrifice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11542377) by [IncompleteHack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncompleteHack/pseuds/IncompleteHack). 



> Hi guys! Just wanted to let you all know that I am in Seattle and things are really disrupted right now so I have had to put this down for a bit while I figure out work and child care and whatnot. I will be back to posting new chapters soon!

It was midnight and a Templar was escorting Sasha to the top of Fereldan’s Circle Tower. She had never been up here before in all the years she had lived in Kinloch Hold. As they entered the Harrowing Chamber, she halted and cast an astonished glance about the room. Massive walls bore down upon her as torchlight flickered and danced over the darkened stained-glass windows. A magnificent fresco depicting the life and death of Andraste spanned the ceiling far above her. Sasha began to tremble as her eyes fell on the depiction of Maferath's betrayal and the resulting execution of his wife.

As Sasha's guide led her to the center of the room, a group of Templars materialized out of the darkness. They were all wearing full helms and dark ceremonial robes over their armor. Faceless, they stood vigilant, ready at a moment’s notice to carry out their terrible duty.

Two men were standing slightly apart from the rest of the group. One was Knight-Commander Greagoir, and the other was her mentor, Grand Enchanter Irving. As her eyes fell on Irving, she felt her composure return. His quiet strength and calm demeanor always made her feel braver under the watchful gaze of the Knight Commander.

Sasha had known Grand Enchanter Irving ever since she had first arrived at the Circle. Like many, her magic had manifested itself at an early age. She supposed the people of Kirkwall had been appalled at the thought of a mage appearing in such a long line of noblemen and women, so they had called the Templars to come and rip her from her mother’s arms and take her to the Gallows. Shortly after, the Templars had brought Sasha to Kinloch Hold, Ferelden's Circle Tower, far from her family and the only life she had ever known.

Upon her arrival at the Circle Tower, she had been taken immediately before Grand Enchanter Irving and Knight-Commander Greagoir. They told her a mage's blood was unique and could be used for good or evil. The Templars used it to track apostates while blood mages used it to augment their powers and call upon demons. Then they had retrieved Sasha's blood and used it to create a phylactery.

They explained that all of this was for her protection. Because she needed to understand the dangers she posed to others as well as to herself. And at times, their fear did seem understandable, but the Circle still felt like a prison all the same. The Chantry had handed her a life sentence for no other crime than being born with the powers the Maker Himself had bestowed upon her.

 _And I’ll be given a death sentence just as easily if I don’t show care_ , she reminded herself.

"The Harrowing is a secret by necessity," Irving was saying. "Spirits of the Fade are drawn to you, as they are to all mages. Through you, demons pose as great a risk to others as to yourself. You will now enter the Fade and face a demon armed with only your will. You must show that your magic does not rule you. Only then will you truly be a mage of the Circle."

“I am ready," Sasha whispered.

“Know this, Apprentice,” said Greagoir, taking a step forward. “If you fail, we Templars will do our duty. You _will_ die.”

The silence held thick in the air after this pronouncement.

“Every mage must go through this trial by fire,” Irving muttered to Sasha, too softly for anyone else to hear. “As we succeeded, so shall you.”

Sasha took a deep breath, nodded, and stepped forward through the circle of Templars. There, in the exact center of the room, sat a pedestal filled to brimming with lyrium. Lyrium. It was almost alive in its fluidity; almost singing in its resonance. Magic in its raw form.

Slowly, Sasha stretched out her hand, but before it reached the bowl, the lyrium reacted to her presence. A flash of blue flame suddenly lashed out, enveloping her in its embrace. She felt her consciousness being ripped from her body as it was drawn into the Fade. Back in the Harrowing Chamber, Sasha fell to the floor and lay there, motionless.

There was nothing to do now but wait.


	2. Jowan

“..sha”

“…asha”

“Sasha! Hey! Are you all right?”

Sasha jerked awake to find Jowan staring down at her. Startled, she sat up quickly but stopped again when she began to feel sick and disoriented. She had no idea what time it was or how long she had been lying in her bunk.

“Jowan? What - ?” she began, but he cut her off impatiently.

“That Templar, Cullen, carried you in this morning. Someone said they had taken you for your Harrowing. Is it true? What was it like?”

Sasha once again saw the faceless Templars from the night before. So, Cullen had been among them. The thought caused a pang somewhere deep inside her.

“It was--harrowing,” she replied grimly.

“Oh, very funny," Jowan glowered. "Is that why they keep it a secret, then? I know we aren’t supposed to know anything, but just give me a little hint and I’ll stop asking, I swear!”

“Patience, Jowan. You’ll have your turn soon enough."

“Yeah, right," he scoffed. "I've been here longer than you have, and you know as well as I do that there are only two other options for an apprentice with any kind of real power. Tranquility or death. And I'll never let them make me tranquil."

Sasha turned to look at him, shocked. "Come on, Jowan. Do you really think Irving would just stand by and let Greagoir make you tranquil?"

Jowan looked at her intently for a moment before shrugging and looking away again.

"Well, I guess we'll see, won't we? Anyway, I shouldn't waste your time with this. I was supposed to tell you to see Irving when you woke up. I guess now you get to move up to the mages’ quarters while I’m stuck down here.”

Sasha half-expected him to kick the wall at this point, but he just crossed his arms and glowered at it instead. Not knowing what else to say, she gathered her things and disappeared into the baths.

Throwing her robe aside, Sasha lowered herself gingerly into the steaming hot water, her long hair floating around her in dark tendrils. As she soaked, she thought back to the Harrowing. It had been a terrifying ordeal. She saw herself once more dueling for the right to bear a Staff of Valor; facing the giant Sloth Demon, who attempted to ensnare her with his riddles; and fighting a Rage Demon with the shapeshifter, Mouse. Except Mouse was neither mouse nor man. He was the real test and the reason the Harrowing was kept secret from those who had not undergone the rite.

She thought of what Jowan had just said. ' _There are only two other options for an apprentice with any kind of real power_.'

It wasn’t that long ago that Irving had warned her about blood mages in the tower. As time had gone by, more apprentices, and even fully-qualified mages, were being made tranquil or even disappearing altogether. Perhaps to Aeonar. And perhaps not. She found herself wondering if Jowan truly did have a reason to be concerned.

Sasha shook herself from her reverie, recalling that Irving was waiting for her. He probably wanted to welcome her officially as a mage within the Circle. She smiled then, thinking of her mentor's worried eyes and kind words from the night before. Dressed in a clean robe and feeling refreshed, Sasha rushed off to see the closest person she had to a family.


	3. Irving

Sasha arrived outside Irving's study to find him in the midst of a heated discussion with Greagoir and a man she didn't recognize.

“We’ve dedicated enough of our own to this war effort,” Greagoir was saying.

“Your own? When did you ever feel such kinship with mages, Greagoir?” Irving countered. “At any rate, Duncan is not only here to bolster the ranks of the king's troops. He's also looking for recruits for the Grey Wardens.”

"Gentlemen, please!" the stranger interjected in a commanding tone that caused both men to cease their discussion at once. "Irving, it appears there is someone here to see you."

Irving turned to see Sasha framed in the doorway, and his face softened.

“Ah, there you are!” he exclaimed, welcome in his voice.

"You sent for me First Enchanter?" she replied in a formal tone as all three men turned to face her.

At her words, the stranger looked back at Irving, then stepped forward to study her more closely.

“This is - ?” he began.

“Yes, this is she,” Irving replied, giving his old friend a knowing smile.

“Well, I can see you’re busy, Irving. We can discuss this later,” Greagoir said before quitting the room.

Irving turned to Sasha and smiled. “Congratulations on passing your Harrowing, child. You are now a full mage within the Circle of Magi.”

“Thank you, Irving,” she said before turning to Duncan, who had been staring openly at her throughout this exchange. He appeared to be perhaps 35, though his black hair and neat beard showed liberal streaks of gray. He was tall and muscular, with golden skin like honey, and he stood with a regal bearing. Where a man like Duncan led, people followed.

"Sasha, this is Duncan, one of the famed Grey Wardens. You recall what I told you of the war effort to the south? The king is attempting to gather more troops to fight the darkspawn.”

Duncan glanced sharply at Irving and added, “Yes, and although you have already sent some mages to help in the coming battle, I fear it will not be enough. I believe an Archdemon is leading this horde. Though I cannot prove it.”

“Well, enough of this gloom, Duncan. Today is a day of celebration for the girl. Sasha, take the rest of the day to move your things upstairs and then feel free to study in the library until supper.”

“I should return to my quarters,” Duncan interjected.

“Would you be so kind as to escort Duncan to his chambers on your way?”

“I’d be happy to,” Sasha replied, glad of the chance to talk to Duncan further. He intrigued her, but he also made her a little nervous. She hadn’t met many strangers since coming to the Circle, and he was like no one she had ever met before.

They stepped out into the hall together and shut the door to Irving's study behind them. Turning, they walked down the deserted corridor, a study in contrasts. He was tall, dark, and careworn with the calloused hands and quiet strength of a warrior. She was small, pale and full of hope, with a gentle touch and a kind heart. Duncan looked at her, and a hint of a smile softened his features.

“Thank you for walking with me,” he said warmly. “I appreciate the company.”

"I was hoping I could ask you some questions.”

“Oh, and what about?”

"Do you really think there's an Archdemon? Why haven't we heard about it before now?"

Duncan thought a moment before replying, "Already we have seen the darkspawn displaying battle tactics, and that kind of intelligence is only seen when an Archdemon is leading the horde."

He hesitated again and then continued carefully, "The Grey Wardens have also–-sensed--an Archdemon at the head of this horde. Do not ask me how for I cannot tell you, but we cannot ask the king to make decisions based purely on a feeling."

A longer pause followed this statement as Sasha considered what Duncan had said. They were almost to the guest quarters before either of them spoke again.

“Irving said you were recruiting for the Grey Wardens. Have you found anyone you’re interested in?”

“I do have my eye on someone, in fact."

"You do?" she said, looking up at him hopefully.

"I do," he confirmed with a laugh. “Ah, here we are. Thank you again for walking with me.”

“That’s okay!" Sasha replied quickly. “I don’t mind.”

“I’ll be staying here for some time. I'd appreciate your company later if you aren’t busy.”

"Oh," Sasha replied, blushing, "Yes, I would like that."

He reached out and took her hand, drawing her gently toward him and looking down into her lovely face.

“Well, then. I shall find you later,” he said, as he brought her hand to his lips.

Sasha stared back at him, held by the intensity of his gaze. Blushing furiously, she nodded before gently pulling her hand free and rushing off, leaving him to stare after her.


	4. Duncan

Duncan went into his room and shut the door. He looked around his large apartment, appreciating its size. There was a comfortable armchair in front of the fire and thick carpeting covered the floor. The fireplace was large and well-tended, with a sconce on each side to hold a pair of torches. Next to him was a double bed with a small side table that held a copy of the Chant of Light.

Duncan took one of the torches, stopping to drop his gloves and daggers on the wardrobe, then crossed the room and entered the private bathing area. He placed the torch in an empty bracket and began removing his armor. He cast each piece aside as he stripped it off until he was only wearing his underclothes. Then he moved to wash himself in the lukewarm water from the washbasin, the muscles of his arms and back moving like whipcords beneath his bronze skin. Though he was muscular, he wasn't especially large. He was a rogue, after all, and living off the land as a Warden all these years had kept him light and agile.

Feeling more like himself, Duncan began to cover his scarred body with his old leather wrappings. They were so well-worn, it was like stepping back into his own skin. He appreciated their familiarity after all the time he had been spending in his formal armor recently. When he had finished, he sat by the fire, thinking. He had been a Grey Warden for so many years now that it sometimes seemed like that was all there was left to him. But being back in Kinloch Hold again had caused all the old, painful memories to come rushing back. He recalled how he had started his journey with King Maric at this very place. About how he had met the young girl while he had been snooping around the tower.

In truth, she had reminded him a great deal of Sasha. Duncan grinned at the thought, recalling how Genevieve had caught them together. But then his smile quickly faded as the rest of their adventure rolled through his mind. He shook his head to stop the memories from playing through. It had been a long time since he had thought about any of that. In fact, he tried not to. He was sure he wasn't the only one. There was a reason he hadn't heard from Fiona in so many years. After the taint had left her body, Fiona had been cast out of the Wardens and sent back to the Circle. And then King Maric had disappeared and Duncan was the only one left to look out for their son.

Sasha's face flashed through Duncan's mind again. She was so beautiful, with her creamy skin and large eyes. She reminded him of some kind of rare bird, her sweet voice lilting through his memory. He thought of her being shut up in the Circle Tower, living out her days under the thumb of the Chantry. Being viewed with suspicion and treated with disdain. Possibly even violence. It made him want to take her away from it all. Give her the chance to live and love and be loved.

He sighed wearily and rubbed his forehead. He wasn’t exactly offering her an ordinary life in exchange, he knew. Grey Wardens were anything but normal. From the very moment they joined, they were living on borrowed time. Eventually, they all heard the Calling and went into the Deep Roads to find their death. Duncan had recently begun to detect the faintest traces of the Calling himself and he knew his time must be drawing near. He had seen what became of those who sought to escape that fate and he wanted no part of it. He would rather die as a man than live as a monster. Well, the Wardens couldn't give Alistair and Sasha everything, but it could at least give them a chance.

Duncan got to his feet and crossed the room in a few long strides. He would go to the library. They had many fascinating books there and one should never pass up an opportunity to gather new information. Besides, he reasoned, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, he wasn’t the only one planning to spend time there today.


	5. The Confession

Cullen stood at his post watching the exchange between Sasha and Duncan. He had heard Greagoir talk about this man before. A Grey Warden, apparently. Normally, Cullen would be in awe of someone like that, but for some reason, he thought he rather hated the man. Lost in thoughts of Duncan dying many varied deaths, Cullen was too late to move when Sasha rushed off only to collide with him moments later.

"Oh, um, excuse me," he stammered as though he hadn't been standing in the same exact spot for hours. He felt his face already beginning to turn red and he quickly stepped back from her by a pace or two.

"Oh, Cullen!" Sasha said, blushing furiously too. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you there."

"That's okay," he said, once again envisioning Duncan flying from the rooftops. "Where are you headed?"

"Well, since you ask, you are now looking at an official mage of the Circle of Magi. First order of business, move into my new quarters as quickly as possible!"

She laughed, then made to move past him down the western stairwell and back to the dormitories when the question bypassed his brain and popped from his mouth.

"Would you like some help?"

He glared past her toward Duncan's closed door.

"Sure," Sasha replied with a giggle, glancing between Cullen and the door, "but you have to carry the heavy stuff."

He grinned and moved aside to let her pass. His large frame filled the narrow opening and she let her hand rest gently on his chest as she brushed past him. The warm feeling that had just entered his gut turned icy, the red that had so recently colored his cheeks fading to a pasty white. He hung back for a moment, unsure, and then hurried up behind her. He grabbed her arm and turned her to him.

“Listen, Sasha. I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

He looked searchingly into her eyes then took a deep breath and said in a rush, "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I was at your Harrowing. The Knight-Commander appointed me as the Templar who would strike the final blow if you failed."

Cullen watched as he felt the weight of his words fall on her. He felt his heart wrench for her and he hated himself for any part he had played in it.

"Could you truly have done it, Cullen?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. 

"I wouldn't want to. Not to you, not to anyone."

He stopped, struggling with himself, before continuing. 

"But I am the Maker's servant and will do as I am commanded," he finished lamely. The practiced words felt cold and hollow.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Cullen stared silently at the floor for a long time before responding. 

"I don't know. It just felt like _not_ telling you was lying to you somehow."

He dared a glance at her before looking hurriedly away again. Sasha continued down the hall toward the dormitories. He followed in the wake of her silence, feeling defeated.

 _Stupid!_ he thought to himself. _Why did I go and tell her that for? She'll only hate me now._

But as they walked, Sasha moved closer to him, her arm brushing lightly against his. She found his fingers with her own, entwining them for a brief moment before reaching up onto her tip-toes and whispering, "I understand, Cullen."

She brushed his cheek lightly with her lips and then she dropped his hand and walked away.

Cullen stood rooted to the spot, his fingers touching the spot where she had kissed him. Then relief began to flood through him, quickly followed by the realization that she didn't hate him. That she might even like him. He hurried to catch up to her. When they reached the dormitories, he moved quickly past her so that he could hold the door for her once more. He waited for her to gather her things, so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice Jowan's glare. 

Thoughts were rushing through his head. Thoughts that he had hardly entertained under the guise of dreams, much less acknowledged in the light of dawn. But she was no longer his charge, so what was stopping him? 

_Nothing_ , he thought to himself. _Nothing at all._


	6. Cullen

Cullen escorted Sasha to her new private quarters, but when she pushed open the door and stepped inside, he hesitated at the threshold. She leaned her staff against the wall and turned back to find him still standing just outside the door. She gave him a look of amused exasperation before moving to take her belongings from him, tossing them carelessly onto the bed.

"Thank you for helping me. I'm sorry if I'm distracting you from your duties."

"No!" he said quickly, eager not to give her the wrong impression. "Um, I mean, no, you aren't distracting."

He looked at her as she stood quietly in the warm light cast by the room's fire. _Maker, she's beautiful,_ he thought. Especially because she seemed not to know just how attractive she was. And she had an air of innocence and modesty about her that always seemed to make people forget her age and experience. For though she was still blossoming into the fullness of her womanhood, he knew that she wasn't exactly innocent. It was hard not to be aware of the opposite sex in the tower, and he had been aware of her for a very long time now. But she was a mage. She had lived with the other apprentices in their private dorms for most of her life. She slept with them, ate with them, studied with them, bathed within feet of them.

Cullen had seen Sasha with other men before, and it always caused jealousy to rise in his heart. He had long since realized that he must be in love with her. Or was it more than that? Love, passion, desire, infatuation. It was all rolled into one, a great ball of yearning in his gut. But she was a mage and he was a Templar. True, he had sworn no oath to the Maker to forego relationships. Still, he hesitated.

"Cullen?"

At the sound of her voice, he started, jerked from his thoughts. "What? Oh, sorry."

He paused a moment before allowing an uncharacteristically mischievous smile to tug at the corner of his mouth.

"Well," he said, finally moving into the room and letting the door swing shut behind him. "I guess you are distracting. But that's not what I meant."

Sasha laughed and gave him an affectionate look. He returned it with so serious a gaze that her laughter died on her lips. He advanced into the room, towering over her in his armor and she instinctively backed away, coming to a halt when she hit the wall behind her. But Cullen didn't stop. He came closer--and closer--and closer until he was so close, he was nearly touching her.

"What I meant," he said, his voice sounding gruff and unfamiliar, "was that you can come and see me anytime you want."

He reached out one hand and lightly traced a finger down the line of her jaw. Reaching her chin, he lifted her face to his, looking at her searchingly. He saw surprise, but no resistance, there. He reminded himself that Sasha was his charge.

 _Not anymore,_ that other part of him whispered back. But it still wasn't appropriate to have a relationship with her. _But why_ , _though_?

His control began to crack and he slid his hand around her waist, bringing her to him at last. He wanted her so much, it scared him, and he finally let go. Leaning down toward her upturned face, he kissed her fiercely. After a brief moment of shock, Sasha melted into him. She parted her lips and he thrust his tongue inside, tasting her, exploring her, reveling in the feel of her. She responded with enthusiasm, running her hands up his chest and through his hair, pulling his head down to deepen their kiss even more. He pulled her hips into his, sliding one knee up between her legs.

She gasped, breaking their kiss, and throwing her head back to expose the soft skin of her throat. He ran his lips lightly from her ear to her collarbone, never quite touching her. A long shudder ran down the length of her body. She arched against him and at that moment he thought about taking her. Right there against the wall. He was sure she wanted it too, and he nearly allowed himself to let go completely. At the last moment, he pulled back from her instead.

"I’m sorry," he said, shaking his head. He took one step back from her, then another, before turning on his heel and rushing out of the room. He shut the door behind him and leaned back against the wall, his head in his hands. What in the name of Andraste was he doing? Was it right? Even if she wanted it as much as he did?

He didn’t know anymore. He pushed himself away from the wall and hurried back to his regular patrol route, seeking comfort in its familiarity.


	7. Betrayal

Sasha leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily as she watched Cullen's retreating back, the door closing behind him with a sense of finality.  _ Well _ , she thought sadly,  _ there was never much hope there to begin with, I suppose _ . But she felt the tears starting to fill her eyes all the same and she bit her lip hard as a wave of disappointment threatened to overwhelm her.

Sasha looked around her new apartment. It was empty to the point of being barren and she abruptly felt a sense of loneliness so deep it nearly brought her to despair. Not wanting to remain now that Cullen had departed so abruptly, she thought perhaps she would take Irving up on his offer to study in the senior mages' library. After all, Duncan had said he might find her later. Perhaps he would look for her there.

As she recalled the details of Duncan's face, his hair, his hands, his voice, all else was driven from her thoughts and before she realized what she was doing, she was already hurrying out the door.

The moment Sasha stepped foot outside of her chamber, however, she was accosted by Jowan.

“There you are!” he said irritably. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Oh," Sasha said, startled. "Well, I was just moving my things, but now I was thinking I'd go to the library for a while."

She continued down the hall, Jowan in tow.

“Wait," he hissed. "I want to talk to you."

“About what?"

“Greagoir's going to make me tranquil, Sasha.”

Sasha stopped in her tracks, finally giving him her full attention. “What!? How do you know?”

“Look, the chapel is on this floor. Stop there with me on your way to the library and I'll tell you." He hesitated before continuing, "And I want to introduce you to someone.”

Intrigued, Sasha nodded and walked on. They reached the chapel a short time later, and she allowed Jowan to take the lead. He entered and headed straight across the room to a secluded alcove at the back where a girl wearing initiate's robes was standing quietly, apparently waiting for their arrival.

Jowan walked up and grasped the girl's hand, whispering something in her ear before turning back to Sasha.

"Do you remember a few weeks ago when I told you I met someone? Well, this is Lilly.”

"Um, Jowan," Sasha replied tentatively. "You may want to rethink whatever it is you're planning."

Jowan looked at her sharply. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Initiates are forbidden from being in relationships aren't they?" she replied quietly, glancing at Lilly out of the corner of her eye.

He relaxed a little. "Don’t worry about that. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about. The thing is, well, Lilly’s the one who found the document on Greagoir's desk. The one approving the Rite of Tranquility to be used on me. It had already been signed by him and Irving."

Sasha looked at Lilly, who nodded in confirmation.

“What exactly is it they suspect you of doing?” Sasha asked him.

After a brief pause, Jowan said, “There’s a rumor going around about me. People think that I’m a blood mage. That's why they haven't taken me to my Harrowing yet.”

“Are you?” she asked.

It had slipped out before she could stop herself. Jowan had become more and more withdrawn the last few months and they had slowly drifted apart. She had thought it was because he had met someone, as he had said. Another mage. But Sasha knew Jowan too well. He would never be with an Initiate. He had been at the tower since she was brought there and he had  _ always _ hated the Chantry.

Jowan's parents had been devout Andrastians and had never been particularly pleased with him. And they had told him so with their fists. When they found out that he was a mage, they had nearly beat him to death. Until he had used his magic and burned their house to the ground. He had been the only survivor. The Templars that arrived wanted to kill him on sight, but Greagoir had intervened and brought the boy to Irving instead. They had given him the chance to prove that he had acted in self-defense, unable to control himself as he had just come into his magic. But they had always kept a close eye on him. And he had never been taken for his Harrowing.

“Of course not!” he replied defensively. “It’s just that I’ve been sneaking around with Lilly, that’s all.”

Sasha stared at him, taking in his sallow skin and stringy hair, the way he kept fidgeting with his hands, and how his eyes darted nervously around the room.

"So what exactly is it that you want me to do?" she said, finally.

"You have to help me; I have to get out of here!"

"What?! You want me to help you escape the tower? Do you know what that means if you're caught?"

"No. Help us," he said. "You're coming with me."

That made her pause. Once a mage had passed their Harrowing, their phylactery was sent to Denerim, but hers would not have been sent yet. They could destroy their phylacteries and escape together.

Then again, the tower was her home. The only place she could ever really remember being. She had friends among the other mages. They had grown up together. People on the outside, perhaps, could never understand what it was like. To live in a confined space for your entire life, with the same people, all of you suffering together. It formed bonds that were far more meaningful and far more difficult to break. 

"I can't," she said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Jowan. I just can't."

"Please, Sasha! You know what they'll do to me. You can't let this happen! I thought we were friends!"

"What about her?" Sasha asked, looking pointedly at Lilly. She was just standing there blankly, as though waiting for instructions.

"What about her?" he replied, coldly. 

"Is it true?"

"I already told you," his voice softened. "Listen, she's sympathetic to the mages. She isn't like the rest of them."

"And..." he paused. "She can help us."

He looked at Lilly, who spoke for the first time.

“We know it's useless for Jowan to escape without destroying his phylactery first, but the vials are kept sealed within a vault deep under the foundations of the tower. The door to the vault can only be opened when a password is spoken by a member of the Chantry at the same moment that a Mage of the Circle casts a disarming spell upon it. Once inside, Jowan can destroy his phylactery and we can all escape,” she whispered. "Together."

Sasha felt numb.  _ '...a Mage of the Circle.'  _ Now it all made sense. He needed a Mage of the Circle to cast the disarming spell. And she had passed her Harrowing mere hours ago. This wasn't about them escaping together. He needed her. He was using her. The realization hurt. Deeply.

“I need some time to think this over, okay?” she replied, keeping her voice steady, though her hands shook. With anger or fear, she didn't know. Maybe both.

"Okay," he replied grudgingly, "but hurry! I haven't got much time."

Sasha nodded and turned to leave. She would go to Irving for advice. He was like a father to her. And she had nowhere else to turn. She hurried off toward his study, all thoughts of Duncan and the library forgotten.


	8. Recruitment

Sasha arrived outside Irving's study and knocked on the open door. He looked up from his desk, surprised.

"Yes, what is it?" he asked.

"I--" She paused and glanced around the room.

"It's all right. You may speak freely."

"Well," Sasha began again, nervously. "Something happened just now and I don't what I should do."

She stopped, looking down at her hands. She didn't know if she was doing the right thing, but what other option did she have? Irving had been her mentor and her friend for years now and she had no one else to go to for advice. 

_Except Cullen,_ her mind whispered against her will. But she pushed the thought angrily away. She couldn't go to him now. Not after what had just happened. Besides, he was a Templar. She wanted to help Jowan, not get him killed.

"What is it, Sasha?" Irving repeated with growing concern.

Sasha came to her decision. She relayed the details of what had just transpired, along with her suspicions about Lilly. When she finished speaking, the old man sighed wearily and stood up, motioning for Sasha to follow him. They crossed the large room to the fire where they sat on comfortable couches and chairs that were scattered in front of it. Large, heavy bookshelves lined the walls. They were filled with books, scrolls, and all kinds of glittering treasures. Irving looked around at these for a time, as though searching among them for the right words to use. At last, he spoke.

"You did well to tell me this. We were already aware of the situation, but we had no idea how far it had gone or who all was involved. Moreover, Greagoir may now understand why I trust you so."

"What do you mean?"

"We have known that someone passing information to Jowan for some time now. Greagoir suspected you, but I have assured him that it must be someone else. A member of the Chantry or a Templar. Of course, he was not sure if he should believe me. But now we know have proof. This explains everything."

Sasha's eyes went wide. "But wait! You can't tell him. I came here for advice, not to help my friend be murdered."

Irving cut her off, scowling.

"This is a more dangerous situation than you realize," he snapped. "All mages are in danger when it comes to the fragile trust we hold in the minds of the Templars. And even within these walls, if the corruption has become too widespread, then we are all in grave peril. But more importantly, once a mage turns to blood magic, there is little that can be done to bring them back."

"But--"

"You will do nothing until we have resolved this situation," Irving interrupted.

Sasha’s mouth snapped shut and she blinked, surprised at the harshness of her mentor's voice.

"Are you really going to do it, Irving? Make him Tranquil?"

"Listen to me, Sasha. I know that Jowan was once your friend, but he is no longer the same person. We have definite proof that he has been practicing blood magic and he most likely has Lilly enthralled. I want you to return to your room and stay there until I can speak with Greagoir."

Sasha said nothing. She was no longer sure she had made the right choice. She began to get up, thinking maybe she should find Jowan, try and talk some sense into him, or even warn him to hurry if he truly planned to escape. Before she could move, Irving spoke again.

"Did you escort Duncan back to his quarters earlier?"

Sasha felt her stomach flip at the mention of Duncan's name. She averted her eyes and said, "Yes, I did."

"Good, I wanted you to meet him. Tell me, what did you think of him?"

"Well, I was happy to have the chance to speak with him," Sasha replied, embarrassed. "He is very knowledgeable."

Blushing furiously, she added, "And, um, he appears to be a great man."

"Yes, he is most honorable," Irving agreed, "Grey Wardens are peerless warriors who sacrifice all for our sakes. You can learn much from him."

Irving stopped, now watching Sasha intently.

"You have been offered a rare opportunity," he continued after a few minutes. "I was going to wait to tell you this, but it seems that circumstances are no longer under my control. Duncan has asked my permission to take you with him when he returns to Ostagar."

Sasha gasped and sat forward, her eyes wide. "What?! Me?"

"Yes, you," he replied, now smiling a little. "Understand this, however. Duncan wishes to recruit you into the Grey Wardens, not just into the king's army. Once you leave, you will not be coming back."

Sasha stared down into the fire for a long time, thinking. A Grey Warden? Could it be true? She imagined herself leaving the Circle, never to return. Going out into the wide world that she had never known seemed both exciting and terrifying. She thought about the Archdemon and the hordes of darkspawn waiting to crush all of Thedas and fear flashed through her. But then she saw Cullen's retreating back once more, and somehow that was even worse. She finally turned back to Irving, who was studying her with worried eyes. 

"Thank you, Irving," she said and he smiled, relieved.

"You are welcome, child," he said, patting her arm and smiling at her fondly. "Now, do an old man a favor and go straight to your quarters. No detours. Stay there until I send for you. Remember what I said about Jowan and please--be careful."

Irving moved back around to sit behind his desk and Sasha left his study. She headed back to her room, lost in thoughts of a future she never dreamed she could have.


	9. Reflections

For anyone who cherished a love of history, the senior mages' library in Ferelden's Circle Tower was a treasure trove of ancient texts. Enormous wooden bookcases lined the stone walls, filled to brimming with records, archives, and journals. But the real treasure, at least in Duncan's opinion, was the stockpile of aged maps dating back to antiquity.

He'd studied maps that revealed the shifting borders throughout Thedas as the Tevinter Imperium grew and fell. Maps that explained how the Dales were given to the Dalish as a remembrance of their loyalty before being drawn back within Orlais' border once more. Maps that recorded the rise of the Free Marches as it consolidated itself into a great Nation of Nations through the collective goal of continued independence.

As Duncan wandered through the long aisles of ancient scrolls, he selected a few documents to pass the time with and settled himself into a cozy nook in the corner to read. Before long, however, his mind began to wander. It directed itself, at first, to its established path of the darkspawn and the Archdemon. This thought soon led to the memory of why he had come here in the first place. When only seven mages had arrived at Ostagar following King Cailan's summons, along with a note from Irving explaining the situation, Duncan had asked the king's permission to come to the tower personally and request more assistance for the coming battle. Upon arriving, Irving had introduced him to the girl, Sasha. He knew at once that he would do anything to take her away from here. Not only for her own good, or his, but for all of Thedas. There was something about her; something that would change the world if only she were given the chance.

Thinking of Sasha, he once again saw her long black hair framing her softly rounded face, her full lips, and her large, almond-shaped eyes. He could smell the sweet floral fragrance that had lingered on his lips after he had kissed her hand. The thought of kissing her--

Duncan shook himself. Although Sasha was now a full mage of the Circle, her appearance still maintained the last vestiges of youth and innocence. He wasn't entirely sure what kind of experiences mages were used to in the tower. Not that he was exactly experienced himself, having given most of his life to the Wardens. It had been many a long year since he had met anyone who made his pulse quicken and his heart pound. Someone who drove every other thought out of his head. Every thought except the thought of kissing her--

Lost in pleasant reflection, Duncan didn't realize at first that a messenger had appeared with an urgent summons for him. Nodding his thanks, he took the hastily written note, examined it, and headed straight for Irving's study.


	10. Trouble

Duncan arrived to find a solemn bunch. He peered around, taking in the stricken faces of the men.

"What is it?" he asked. "What has happened?"

Irving looked at Greagoir, then at Cullen, then finally back to Duncan. "Have you seen Sasha since she walked you to your room earlier?" he asked.

Duncan felt a cold weight drop into the pit of his stomach. "No, I haven't. I was hoping to meet her while I was in the library, but she never arrived."

"And Cullen, you say you helped her move her things to her new quarters? And that was the last time you saw her?" Irving asked.

Cullen turned scarlet and nodded.

Irving sighed. "Then I must've been the last to see her. After we spoke, I sent her back to her chambers to await my summons, but when I sent Cullen to fetch her, she wasn't there."

"When I got to her room, the door was open, but it looked like she hadn't been back there at all," Cullen said. "Her things were still laying on the bed and nothing else looked as though it had been touched."

"I do not think she would have ignored my request. I warned her of the danger I suspected her to be in--" Irving began.

"Danger!?" Cullen exclaimed.

"What do you mean?" Duncan demanded.

Irving and Greagoir looked at each other, and Greagoir nodded.

"When Sasha was on her way to the library earlier, she ran into a friend of hers," Irving said. "Greagoir and I had recently discovered that he had been practicing blood magic. With proof and an eye-witness, it was decided that he would be made tranquil; however, within days of having the order approved, Jowan already knew. He approached Sasha last night, asking for her help to escape the tower. She came to me to ask for my advice and my help. I warned her that the situation was more dangerous than she could imagine and sent her back to her room. I warned her to stay away from him..."

"She may well have gone to warn her friend," Greagoir agreed. "She knew that Jowan needed her to destroy his phylactery and escape the tower. She also reported that Jowan had been involved with an Initiate, who he also convinced to help him. We suspect that he gained control over her through blood magic and was using her to help him."

Duncan looked up sharply. "So now he has everything he needs."

"Yes," Irving confirmed grimly.

"We must go after her at once!" Cullen exclaimed. Everyone turned to look at him. He was white and shaking, and his hands were balled into fists.

"Wait!" Greagoir called out urgently, moving to block Cullen's path. "We can't just barge off without a plan!"

"He's right," agreed Irving. "We're dealing with a blood mage here! If Sasha didn't agree to help him willingly, he will likely try to take control of her as well. We must handle this with great care!"

As the three of them began to argue amongst themselves, Duncan turned and walked silently from the room.


	11. Decisions

"Duncan, wait!" Irving called after him. "I'll show you the way; just give me a moment!"

Duncan paused while Irving left instructions for Greagoir and Cullen, then he caught up to him again. As they hurried down the hall, Duncan began strapping his sword to his belt. Irving looked at him and saw the fire in his eyes. He knew that if Duncan sincerely cared for the girl, he would stop at nothing to protect her.

"Duncan, you must listen," Irving whispered urgently. "I have done what I could to ensure Greagoir's trust in Sasha. And I know, too, that Cullen cares for her deeply."

At this, Duncan stiffened, and his eyes narrowed, remembering the look on Cullen's face when Irving asked him about his interaction in Sasha's room.

"However," Irving continued, "they are Templars first, which means that they serve the Chantry and their Maker before all else. If Greagoir has even the slightest reason to believe that Sasha helped Jowan, he will likely attempt to detain her and send her to Aeonar."

Duncan's eyes widened. "What?!" he exclaimed. "The mage's prison? Why would he do that?"

"Because he will see it as the safest course of action. Either she helped him of her own free will or she helped him because she was taken over by blood magic. They will want to be sure she is no longer being controlled and that she has not been possessed."

"And if Greagoir authorizes it, Cullen will not stand against him," Duncan reasoned.

"Exactly."

They walked on in silence for a time before Irving continued.

"I am sorry to have to ask this of you--" he began, but Duncan cut him off.

"You do not need to ask anything of me," he said fiercely. "I will not allow anyone to touch her."

A grim smile touched Irving's lips.

"You asked her about the Joining?"

"She wishes to go with you," Irving said. "She is quite taken with you, in fact."

Duncan disregarded this bit of information for the moment while he concentrated on the matter at hand, but he filed it away for later consideration.

"Then she will go with me and no one else," Duncan growled. "I hereby invoke the right of Conscription upon Sasha Amell."

Irving smiled. "Good. Then make her removal your first priority. Leave the rest to me."

Duncan studied him for a moment, then nodded.

"Now," Irving said as they arrived on the lower level. "We must head for the storage room on this floor. That leads to the vaults, where the phylacteries are kept."

"And Greagoir?" Duncan asked.

"He's gathering a small team to block all exits from the hall."

Duncan nodded his approval.

"Then let us make haste," he said, and together they went in search of the one person who had been able to touch both their hearts.


	12. Confrontation

Duncan and Irving halted as they approached the first-floor storage room. Duncan had been through the large room only once when he had first arrived at the tower. Now, he looked around more closely, studying the scene. There were only two exits besides the one to the sub-basement. He looked up at the domed ceiling far above him and noted that there were no windows in the room. Aside from the columns to the right of the doorway leading out into the entrance hall, it was just stone and wood and nothing else.

"When will Greagoir arrive?" he asked.

"Soon," Irving responded. "He should have men covering both exits before we go inside."

As they were considering what to do next, they heard footsteps coming from the other side of the door. Irving stayed where he was while Duncan faded silently into the shadows the columns provided. He had only one purpose to fulfill now.

The door swung open, and Jowan came through, accompanied by Lilly and Sasha. He looked exultant.

 _Greagoir must get here soon!_ Duncan thought. He watched as Jowan stopped abruptly at the sight of Irving, and Lilly and Sasha both stopped as well. Jowan looked around. Seeing no one else, he relaxed, and a sneer came over his face.

"Well, if it isn't Old Man Irving," he taunted. "What's the matter? Get lost on the way to the bathroom?"

Behind him, Duncan saw Lilly and Sasha standing perfectly still, as though they were merely empty shells quietly awaiting instructions. As Irving opened his mouth to respond, Greagoir and a host of Templars burst into the room. Jowan's eyes grew wide, and Duncan saw panic begin to overtake him.

Before Irving could move out of the way, Jowan released both girls, shoving them carelessly from him. He pulled a dagger from his robes and brought it down sharply into his wrist, drawing a deep gash that instantly began to heal itself. The blood pouring from the open wound gathered into a form, like a giant, blood-red wisp. The dark power rushed forth from him, hitting Irving full force and throwing him across the room. Greagoir and several Templars were also driven back, crashing into each other in a tangled heap.

In the confusion, Jowan ran. Duncan moved to follow him but saw Greagoir's men coming up the hall. He paused. He must wait until Greagoir could contain Jowan and Irving could calm the situation. And then there would still be the matter of Aeonar. Irving was right. He might only have one chance at this. Right of Conscription or no, Greagoir would not let Sasha go without a fight. At this thought, he moved back deeper into the shadows instead, awaiting his chance to get to Sasha.

As the Templars began to untangle themselves, one ran to get the medics while the rest rushed off to follow Jowan and aid in his capture. As soon as the confusion began to settle, Duncan saw Cullen rush to Sasha, who lay quite still on the stone floor. As he bent down to lift her, however, Greagoir's voice rang out.

"Stop!"

Surprised, Cullen halted mid-bend and looked toward Greagoir.

"We must wait for the medics," he explained more kindly. "Do not move her. Do not move any of them or we may unwittingly cause further harm."

Cullen nodded and, rising, went to join his commander.


	13. An Awakening

Sound came back to Sasha first. She thought she could hear someone crying softly nearby. Soon after, she began to hear other things. Indistinct voices. Shouting. People running.

Touch came back to her next and she started to feel the pain of her body coming through the fog of her awareness. She realized that she was on a cold stone floor, but had no memory of how she had come to be there.

As Sasha lay there feeling the pain coursing through her, it soon began to change, but it was not like any pain she had ever known. Icy cold and sharp, it wrapped around her heart like a frozen wire. With every beat, it pierced through her with an agony so intense, it seemed too much to bear.

Emotions came next. Confusion. Fear. Sadness. Anger. As they came back to her one by one, they each threatened to overwhelm her in turn. The pain of her mind joined the pain of her heart and it built into an intense feeling of despair. It was as though someone had violated her very soul.

As she lay in the dark pain and swirling turmoil, Sasha felt a gentle touch on her back. She shrank away from it so violently that she cried out in her distress. She lay there shivering in fearful anticipation, wondering what had happened to her.

"Hush," came Cullen's soft voice, cracking with the weight of his suffering. Sasha visibly relaxed at the familiar sound of his voice, but he didn't dare touch her again. "It's over now. Shhh."

Sasha continued to lay there shivering, waiting for her sense of self to return, which it did with unbearable slowness. And as it did, so did her sight. The first thing she saw was Cullen's worried face floating above her. She tried to speak, but he just shushed her again, looking at her with tender affection.

"I'm so sorry I left you," he said. "If I had just stayed with you--"

Sasha sat up slowly, trying to regain control of herself. It was as though her body, mind, and senses had been disordered and she was trying to put the pieces back together again.

"I'm going to get Irving," Cullen said, worried. "I'll only be a moment, okay? Please, just be still."

He stood up, and she could hear his footsteps retreating a short distance before returning, this time accompanied by another softer sound of shuffling feet.

Sasha was nearing the point of exhaustion now, and she could feel her awareness attempting to slip away once more. As she struggled to cling to consciousness, Irving's voice came through to her. He muttered an instruction to Cullen, who immediately turned and swept from the room.

"Sasha," Irving said in a voice so quiet she could barely hear him. "Listen to me. You must go with Duncan right away. He will see to your safety once you are clear of the tower."

Sasha nodded, unable to speak. Her throat constricted and her eyes filled with tears. There was the sound of running feet and then Cullen appeared back over Irving's shoulder, holding a pack and a staff.

Sasha made to stand up and Cullen dropped everything at once. He bent down and scooped her into his arms. Duncan came forward then. Picking the items up off the floor, he added them to his equipment before turning to Cullen. Silently, he held his out his arms for the girl, but Cullen didn't move. He looked down at Sasha instead, pain etched into his features and tears brimming in his eyes. She looked back up at him, and even through her exhaustion, she saw the pain and the blame he was placing on himself.

"It's not your fault," she said, reaching one hand up to his cheek. "Please, don't blame yourself. It's not your fault."

He nodded his head, tears spilling over. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"Goodbye, Sasha."

"Goodbye, Cullen," she said sadly. Feeling a great weight in her heart, she dropped her head against his chest and allowed the darkness to overwhelm her once more.

"Please take care of her," Cullen said, looking Duncan in the eye.

"Do not worry. I will not allow her to come to any harm."

"Swear it."

A grim smile touched Duncan's lips. "I swear it."

Cullen nodded and moved forward to slide Sasha into Duncan's arms. Duncan turned to Irving, nodded his thanks, then took Sasha and left the tower for good.


	14. On the Road

A cold wind blew through the night making Sasha shiver hard in her sleep. Shifting to hold the reigns with one hand, Duncan drew her closer to him, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her tightly as they rode away from the tower. The one cloak they shared didn't do much to keep the chill away, and Sasha snuggled up to him, resting her head back against his chest and wrapping both of her arms around his.

Duncan looked down at her, so small and pale in the moonlight, and concern showed plainly on his face. He thought he had let this part of himself die long ago, and now he remembered why. But he couldn't help it. His heart ached for her. He wondered what had happened to her and how she would take their flight from the tower. They had been forced to flee, leaving everything behind save what Cullen had brought them.

He thought about Cullen, remembering the way he had looked at Sasha, the way he held her, the understanding that had passed between them before Cullen had handed her to Duncan. There had obviously been something between them. And yet, he was sure she had felt a connection to him as well. And they were gone now. It was a long trip even by horseback, but it would not be an unpleasant one. The lands surrounding Redcliffe were filled with rich pastures and woodlands running along the riverbank, which followed the road all the way to Lothering. He thought about the long journey that lay ahead and the opportunities it afforded. It would just be the two of them, after all.

As Sasha began to show signs of stirring, Duncan found a secluded clearing to set up camp. He guided the horse gently off the path and lay Sasha forward onto the horse's mane where she instinctively wrapped her arms around its neck. After dismounting and retrieving a blanket from his saddlebag, he placed her gently on it. Then he took off his cloak and covered her with it, and she immediately nestled underneath. Duncan stood staring down at her for a few minutes, and then strode some distance away so that she would not be startled by his presence. He wasn't sure what she would remember upon waking, and he did not wish to frighten her.

Even in the dark of night, the moonlight shone through the thick blanket of leaves, dappling the lush grass all around him and Duncan found a large, old tree to settle himself against, appreciating the rare moment of peace he was being afforded. Sleep threatened to overwhelm him and, guarded though he was, he felt a strange lack of vulnerability in the girl's presence. She flitted back through his mind once more, and it was that which he took with him as he sank into slumber.


	15. Comfort

Sasha stirred as she slowly began to regain consciousness. Her mattress felt strange beneath her, and the biting wind was not something she was used to. _Wait_ , Sasha thought, sitting up. _There's no wind in the tower. Where am I?_

As her mind began to clear, she realized that what she was feeling beneath her was not her bed. The soft snuffling and vague form of a horse grazing nearby confirmed her suspicions. So, she was outside of the tower then. What had happened? Irving had said that she would be leaving with Duncan. Had he taken her away after she had fallen asleep? The last thing she remembered was Cullen's pained face and the feel of his lips on her forehead where he had kissed her goodbye.

Sasha shivered again, unused to being outdoors. Realizing what had been covering her, she pulled Duncan's cloak on and drew it close about her. It was long and thick and gray, and it smelled like him. She looked around the clearing and found him leaned back against an old tree. The tree was magnificent; strong and protective, just like its companion. Her stomach squirmed at the sight of him. Not wanting to wake him, but cold and uncertain in the darkness, Sasha got up and walked over to where he was sitting.

Duncan had placed himself between two large roots of the great tree, but there was still a little space left to one side of him. She was feeling unsure of herself, so she settled in next to him without quite touching him. Duncan intimidated her and excited her in equal measure, and though she was sure she had picked up on his attraction to her, she was not sure just what that meant to him.

Sasha sat staring out around the clearing, thinking. It was both beautiful and eerie in the moonlight. Shadows stretched and changed, the leaves and grass moved silently around her, the wind whispered to her in chill bursts. She felt small and alone in the vast expanse of the land. She thought of Irving and her classmates and her former lovers. Ever since she was a child, she had known the same group of people and in the many hours of the countless days of the endless years that stretched before them, they had become family. She smiled sadly as she thought of each of them, but when she reached Cullen, the smile slipped from her face, and she felt a pang of grief at the thought that she might never see him again. She recalled his red hair glinting in the torchlight, his shy smile and awkward manner, their growing feelings for each other. His back as he rushed from the room. She frowned. That was all in the past now.

 _So, this is it_ , she thought. _I'm never going back_.

Her thoughts jumped to Jowan and her sadness turned quickly to anger and hurt. A powerful series of emotions ran through her, feelings of betrayal and violation chief among them. She would never have considered him capable of such things. She couldn't remember what had happened while she was under his control. Perhaps she had blocked it out. Or perhaps it was because her mind had been locked away while he had taken control over her body. She recalled the feeling as he forced his thoughts into her mind, like slimy tendrils grasping at her consciousness. And though she had struggled with all her might, she had been unable to resist him. Everything had gone black after that. She shivered, thinking of Lilly. She wondered how long Jowan had kept her under his control. Sasha drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, hugging herself tightly. 

“It’s okay," a voice said. "It’s okay to feel fear and sadness; to acknowledge pain and loss. How else can you grow if you do not?”

Sasha's head snapped up. Duncan was looking at her with a pained expression. She stared back at him, eyes wide. Her lower lip began to tremble. As she started to cry, she buried her face in her arms. After a moment, she felt a hand slide across her shoulders. At his touch, she turned and flung her arms around his neck. Duncan reached over and pulled her across his lap, holding her tightly as the tears finally broke through. He wrapped his powerful arms around her and held her close, burying his face in her hair and rocking her gently.

After some time, Sasha quieted, but she didn't attempt to pull away from him. Instead, she rested her head against him, allowing him to continue rocking her. Gradually, the tensions surrounding them began to change. Sasha pulled back slightly so that she could see his face. Duncan was gazing back at her, eyes blazing. She felt herself stop breathing as she was pulled into those fathomless eyes. They stayed like that for a long moment, staring at each other, hearts racing, the chemistry building until it became impossible to ignore.

And then Duncan blinked and turned his head away, breaking the moment. Moving her gently from his lap, he stood up and offered her his hand.

“Come,” he said, helping her to her feet. “You must be hungry. Let us eat and talk. I would like to know everything that happened if you feel like you can tell me.”

Sasha nodded and Duncan gently drew her to him, bringing her hand to his lips, just as he had done the first time they met.

"Good. We have much to discuss."


	16. The Embrace

They ate while Sasha relayed what she could remember of the events of the night before to Duncan, carefully leaving Cullen out of the story. Afterward, they sat quietly together for a while before packing up and moving on. Duncan lifted Sasha up first before mounting the horse and settling in behind her. It was promising to be a warm day and a light breeze blew through the hills, carrying the scent of fresh grass and water with it. They made good time on the well-worn road that night and the next day, stopping only to stretch and eat until they had put enough distance between themselves and the tower.

As they rode, they discussed the coming battle. Duncan told Sasha more about the Grey Wardens and the darkspawn and what they might be facing at Ostagar, and Sasha described her experiences in the tower and her training and what she had learned about battle tactics. She was wondering if the fact that she had never seen combat was a problem, but he assured her that it was not, for mages were best placed out of range of enemies where they could cast spells that would do large amounts of area damage.

The day began to draw to a close, the wind picking up, bringing with it the chill of the night air. Sasha shivered a little and Duncan used one hand to bring her closer to him. She leaned her head back against his broad chest, feeling the movement of the horse beneath them, making their hips sway in unison. She thought of the night they had escaped the tower, once more seeing the blazing look in his eyes as he had held her close. She bit her lip, glad Duncan couldn’t see her face at that moment.

A short while later, they arrived at a clearing next to the riverbank surrounded by large boulders that blocked the wind enough to build a small fire. They stopped and Duncan dismounted, lifting Sasha easily down after him. They heated their evening meal and ate in a companionable silence, leaning back together against one of the large stones. After a while, Sasha made to get up, but Duncan brought his arm around her shoulders as she did, catching her and pulling her gently to him instead. Grinning a little in spite of herself, Sasha snuggled in close to him, laying her head on his shoulder and staring out into the night. The moon shone down on the lake, reflecting in long arcs throughout the shimmers of surrounding stars, like two heavens mirroring one another.

"It's so beautiful," she said.

"Yes," Duncan replied, twisting a long strand of her hair around his finger. "It is a reminder of what we fight for. The freedom of all men, our continued existence, our ability to find beauty and truths in the world around us. We Grey Wardens fiercely guard the future of all of the peoples of Thedas."

Sasha lifted her head a little to look at him, and he let her hair trail out from his fingers. His face was grave and his jaw was set.

"You're a good man, Duncan," she said.

He looked down at her and smiled, the lines around his eyes and mouth softening. "No, I am just an old man who remembers to look at the world through the eyes of youth."

Sasha smiled back. "You're not old."

"You are too kind."

"I'm not being kind."

She pulled back a little to look at him. He didn't move or speak, just looked at her as though waiting for something and she thought perhaps he was unsure of her intentions. She thought about that herself for a moment. Though she cared for Cullen and had been sure he felt likewise, he had never shown an inclination to act on that feeling before the other night. Duncan, on the other hand, was here. He was taking her away from the Circle Tower, never to return. After her ordeal with Jowan, she wasn't sure how long it would be before she could put her trust in people again. But there was one person she did trust. Entirely and with no hesitation.

Sasha brought her free hand up, sliding her fingers gently up the back of his neck and pulled Duncan’s face down to hers, their lips meeting in a soft embrace. It lasted for only a moment before he drew back, looking at her searchingly, begging her to convince him that she felt more than gratitude toward him. Sasha twisted around onto his lap, straddling him. His hands found her hips, one continuing around her waist and the other running lightly up her back and into her hair, bringing her down to him in turn. He kissed her then as he had kissed no one before, unable to contain the passion he felt when he was with her. After what seemed like an age, they broke apart. Sasha felt like her whole body was straining for him to touch her and she leaned in to kiss him again, but he stopped her.

“Wait," he said huskily. "We mustn't."

“Why not?” she asked, confused and hurt.

Allowing him to slide her back off his lap, she watched as he stood up, his back to her.

“I do not wish to take advantage of you."

“You aren’t taking advantage of me if I want you to.”

“That is not necessarily true," he reasoned.

"I'm not a child," she countered. Duncan bowed his head, then turned back and knelt down to look at her.

"You have just been through a traumatic experience. You have been forced to leave your home behind. You are alone and afraid.”

Sasha turned her head, no longer looking at him, but she nodded her understanding. Duncan stood up and walked to their mount, taking off two bags and bringing them back with him. He tossed one to Sasha, who caught it, then he sat down next to her with the other pack.

He pulled out a book, a pipe and a flask, laying the first two aside and opening the third. He took a long swig, then offered it to Sasha, who took it and sniffed it gingerly. She’d never had anything but the occasional glass of wine at the tower, but she shrugged and took a drink before passing it back. Immediately, she could feel the warmth spreading down her limbs, the chill and the tension of the day melting away. After taking another sip, Duncan handed it back to her once more, then picked up his book and pipe and began to read. Sasha took a longer sip this time before setting it down and walking off toward the water, her bag in her hands and Duncan's eyes on her back.


	17. A Calm Between Storms

Duncan watched as Sasha strolled off toward the riverbank. He saw her weight shift as she turned to look at him, and he hurriedly looked back down at his book. When she had disappeared behind one of the large boulders on the bank, he tossed his book aside.

He sat there for a long time, thinking. His many long years in the Grey Wardens bludgeoned themselves to the forefront of his mind, reminding him that he had sworn an oath to give himself entirely to the order. That they were on their way to a battle which he was sure they could not win. That he had begun to hear the soft music of the Blight whispering in the deep recesses of his consciousness. And once they reached Ostagar, Sasha would go through the Joining, which meant that she would soon be as much a Warden as him, or she would be dead, for there was no guarantee that she would survive. In fact, most did not.

And assuming she did survive, they still had the battle against the endless horde of darkspawn lying before them. They could both be facing their last days, a fate that was not unfamiliar to either of them, only this time they had been given the chance to find respite in one another's arms before the end. All of his reasons and all of the excuses he had invented on her behalf melted away before the truth of their circumstances. They had been swept up in the chaos, like it or not, and the only thing they could do now was brave the storm the best they could.

At this thought, Duncan got up and wandered slowly down toward the riverbank stopping next to the place where Sasha had disappeared. He saw her clothes flung up onto the rock and looked out into the water. Several large stones made an inlet of sorts, and the pool it created was warmer than the surrounding areas, causing a layer of steam to float above it. He saw Sasha standing in the waist-high water with her back to him and her long, black hair thrown over her shoulders. He found he could not take his eyes off her, though he admittedly didn't try very hard. She had a fine figure, lithe and lean, but muscular and curvy in all the right places. He leaned against the boulder, watching her.

As though she had sensed him, Sasha looked back over her shoulder and saw him standing there. Startled by his appearance, her eyes widened and she lowered herself back into the steamy water, but then she turned to face him again.

"Coming?" she asked before fading back against one of the far stones. He smiled and removed his clothes and tossed them carelessly atop hers before entering the warm pool and making his way to her at last.


	18. Promises

Sasha waited nervously to see if Duncan would follow her. She was afraid he might have decided against it and she wondered how she would feel now on the long trip to Ostagar. After a minute of bitter disappointment, she sank back into the water, wetting her hair. She brought her hands up to smooth it away from her face and her gaze fell upon a figure wading toward her through the mist. Her heart leaped at the sight of him. Duncan moved purposefully now, all hesitation gone. Without his clothes, she was able to fully appreciate his form. He was trim and muscular and he looked strong and forceful in his intent. Upon reaching her, he offered her his hand and she took it, allowing herself to be pulled up and into his arms. He peered into her eyes as though asking for permission and she lifted her gaze to his, her longing apparent.

He ran his thumb gently over her lips. She trembled at his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as he slid his arms around her waist. Leaning down toward her upturned mouth he kissed her, tenderly at first, but then more desperately as they succumbed to the burning passion they both felt, each aching with the need for the other's touch. Feeling him hard against her, she ran her hands down his chest, following the muscles that led all the way to his hips. She grasped him gently, helping him inside her as he picked her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She pressed herself hard against him, taking him as far as he could go, and he buried his face into the crook of her neck, a moan escaping his lips. They stayed like that for a while, the pleasure still too painful in its intensity.

As Duncan held her there, he slid his hands underneath her while he began kissing her neck, her throat, her shoulders, her chest, lifting her with excruciating slowness as he did so. The further down he explored, the more he drew out of her. He could feel her resistance. Her body's need to have him back inside her. He felt it too, but he held her firmly in place all the same as his mouth finally found her breast. His tongue flicking lightly over one nipple while his fingers caressed the other. Just when she began to feel she could bear it no longer, he finally let go, thrusting himself back into her. She cried out, arching her back so that she could take him even deeper.

Their need drove them after that. He grasped her hips tightly in both hands, pushing himself into her again and again and again. She gripped his shoulders tightly, helping him, begging him not to stop, until they both released in an eruption of bliss. Even as the pleasure began to melt away, they stayed pressed together, unwilling to let go of the moment. Now that their immediate needs had been extinguished, the emotions began to follow the physical, and Duncan leaned in to kiss Sasha once more. But this time, it was long and deep and full of promises, which she accepted with all her heart.


	19. Questions

Later, Duncan and Sasha lay under the stars, still naked beneath their blankets. Once he had given himself permission to be with her, he felt he couldn't get enough of her. Even now as he cradled her in his arms, he found that he already wanted her again. They had such a precious short time together before they arrived back at Ostagar, where reality would force itself in on them once more. But for now, they could become lost in each other--and they did--each night spent in pleasure, seeking comfort in one another's arms.

One evening as they lay quietly together, Duncan on his back and Sasha wrapped tightly around him and her head resting on his chest, she asked him about the other recruits and the Wardens that she would meet at Ostagar. She was curious about them, and about what it would mean for her and Duncan once they arrived. He was Warden-Commander, after all, and she was just a recruit. She didn't even know what the Joining entailed.

Duncan lay quietly for a long time, running his fingertips up and down her spine, sending shivers throughout her. He sensed the direction her question was leading and did not have an answer. He wasn't sure how he was going to handle their situation upon his arrival. He hadn't been able to bring himself to think about it since it could very well end up with Sasha's body rejecting the blood of the Joining. And then there was the battle. The overwhelming number of darkspawn, which only seemed to increase no matter how many battles they won. The Archdemon the Wardens had all sensed. There was a very real chance they would not even be alive a week after their arrival.

"Duncan?"

"Hm?"

Sasha sat up a little, one arm on his chest to support her weight as she looked him in the eye.

"What's wrong?"

"What? Oh sorry, I was just distracted. It's nothing." He smiled, lifting his head to kiss her nose. "Well, let's see. Two other recruits will attend the Joining with you and the newest member of our order, Alistair, will lead you in preparing for the rite."

"Will you be there?"

"Yes, I will be there."

"What _is_ the Joining?"

"I--cannot tell you. I am sorry."

Sasha lay her head back down on Duncan's chest, thinking. It must be dangerous then. Some sort of ritual perhaps, one that she might not survive?

"I understand," she said.

Duncan smiled to himself, appreciating her acceptance of the situation. Courage in the face of the unknown was a rare quality. He ran his hand up to her hair, running it through his fingers. It was so long and thick and soft. And it always smelled of flowers. He thought it must be part of her magic, for no ordinary woman ever smelled so sweet.

"Alistair," Sasha said. "What's he like?"

"Well, he reminds me of me when I was his age, actually. Hard-headed and stubborn." He smiled. "Good kid. I knew his father. About six months ago, I found him stuck in the Chantry, desperately unhappy but resigned to his fate. So, I did what I could to free him. They weren't too happy about it either, now that I think about it."

He chuckled, thinking of the outrage he had caused upon his insistence that he take Alistair with him. When Duncan ran across the boy, he felt he owed it to his old friend to try and help his son.

He ended up invoking the Right of Conscription, and they had left in an uproar. But he could tell Alistair had enjoyed it as much as he had and a strong bond had soon formed between them, as though he were passing what was left of himself on to Alistair before his time drew to a close.

"What happened?" Sasha asked when he didn't continue.

Duncan reached over and turned Sasha's face toward him, looking into her eyes and lovingly stroking her cheek before leaning in to kiss her.

"Let's not talk about Alistair right now," he murmured, rolling over and trapping her beneath him. She wrapped her legs around him, welcoming him back into her once more. Slowly, deliberately, they made love before falling asleep entwined in each other's arms.


	20. Destinations

Time did what time always does and passed by quickly in the face of their contentment. Before long they were arriving in Lothering, stopping to restock supplies for the final leg of the journey south. Sasha was beginning to get nervous. The last two weeks had been like a dream, but now reality lay ahead in the form of Ostagar and the Joining ritual.

They traveled more swiftly and slept less soundly as they entered the Korcari Wilds. The morning of their arrival came all too soon, and they were within sight of the fortress when Duncan stopped and dismounted.

"Come with me?" he asked Sasha, offering his hand.

She took it, and he placed it on his shoulder and lifted her down. They sat together on a nearby log, Duncan gazing out at the landscape and Sasha feeling slightly awkward. She wondered if he was going to put an end to his involvement with her now.

"I wish to speak with you," Duncan said finally, not looking at her. Sasha couldn't think of anything to say to this, so she simply waited for him to continue.

"I have learned at great cost that the weight of regret is not something easy to bear. I will have no such regret with you. I will be honest with you. I do not know what is in store for us save many perils. Death lies on all sides and part of being a Grey Warden is sacrificing ourselves entirely for the greater good. Our names, our previous lives, our emotional ties, we sacrifice all to spare the world from another Blight. And the time for that sacrifice may be now."

Sasha stared at him, shocked. She hadn't expected this, and she wasn't quite sure what to say in return. Duncan finally looked at her and his face was filled with sorrow.

"I do not know how much time we will have left together, so I wish to say goodbye now, in case the worst should happen and we are parted for good."

He reached up and removed his cloak, then draped it around her, using it to pull her close.

"W-wait," she stammered, hurrying to think of something she could give him in return. After a moment, she took out her dagger and cut off a thin lock of hair. She braided it and took his hand, turning it over and fastening the lock around his finger like a ring.

Duncan looked down at it and smiled. "Thank you," he said. "I shall keep it with me always."

He stood up, pulling her to her feet. He cupped her face in his hands, staring at her as though to memorize every feature, and then he kissed her with such a sense of finality that she felt as though they had parted already. He turned and led her back to the horse and they continued on their way in an agonized silence, finally arriving at their destination.


	21. Ostagar

The path leading through the courtyard to Ostagar's main hold was thin and overgrown. In the twilight, the crumbling rocks and abandoned lodgings felt forlorn, as though the foundations were coming down around them. A few Wardens milled about on the bridge as they crossed, but none approached, giving the proper distance that Duncan's rank demanded.

There were pitiful few Wardens left in Ferelden, and, as Knight-Commander of this region, it had been Duncan's impossible task to build a crew strong enough to beat back the endless darkspawn rising from the forests. Meanwhile, the king's general, Loghain, refused to accept help from the people that had once stolen their freedom, and the king himself simply wanted to play pretend, as though he were in some glorious tale.

Sasha stared around, fascinated, as they approached the main camp. She was used to the quiet bustles of the Circle Tower, where everything was in order save the occasional fire inevitably set by some new apprentice. But here, they were surrounded by the sounds of people talking and dogs barking; the mingling smells of cooking food and sweaty bodies. There were people everywhere, fighting and training and talking. As the evening drew on, bonfires were being lit, and there were tents set up in small clumps about the remains of the once-mighty tower.

Duncan marched through the throng with Sasha at his heels and the crowd parted respectfully for him, curious gazes following the pair. They soon arrived at a tent near a large campfire and Duncan threw down his packs as though he was home at last.

"Well, here we are," he said, eyeing her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just tired, that's all."

"I see. Well, until accommodations have been made for you, you are welcome to stay here."

Sasha looked up at him, hope once again kindling inside her. "Really?"

"Of course," he replied warmly. "I will see to some food."

He was back in minutes with salted meat, and some bread and cheese. They shared some wine as they ate and Sasha began to feel more like herself. She tried to shake off the feeling of dread her conversation with Duncan had brought her earlier.

"Well," he said after a while. "I have some business to take care of before nightfall. Why don't you take some time to explore the camp and I will come find you later."

He leaned forward to kiss her forehead, and she smiled up at him before he strode off through the throngs of people and out of sight. Sasha got up and wandered off in the opposite direction, drawn by the sound of dogs barking and whining. She wandered up to a wooden fence where another Warden was standing, looking at something on the other side. Following his gaze, she saw a wounded Mabari hound cringing against the back wall.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked the Warden, who started and looked around to see Sasha standing there.

"Well, he went into battle, but when he bit one of the darkspawn, he swallowed some of the creature's blood," he replied, recovering himself. "When that happens, they usually die within a few nights, poor things."

Mabaris were massive creatures, and incredibly dangerous, but they were also extremely loyal pets. They were at least as intelligent as their chosen companions and often fought side by side with them in battle. This one was brown with spots of white on his ears and feet. She noticed that he had what seemed to be blood on his coat, and she pointed it out to the Warden. As he began to answer, a voice from behind her spoke, making her jump.

"That's not blood; that's kaddis."

"What's kaddis?" Sasha asked, turning around to see who spoke. A man was standing a few yards away, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. He appeared to be the head of a small band of men, the rest of whom were keeping their distance. They each had a hound at their side, and each hound was covered in stripes of paint.

"Warpaint," he replied simply, staring at her with interest. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm Sasha. I just arrived with Duncan."

The Ash Warrior looked taken aback. "You're the new Warden recruit? Well, I guess those guys will take anyone they can get at this point."

Sasha bristled at this. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Think about it, sweetheart."

"Do you talk to everyone like that?"

"If I feel like it," he said, leering at her. "C'mon, honey, we've got better uses for you. I hear mages like it hot. Is that true?"

Sasha reddened, both with embarrassment and anger. She started to retort when she saw his face change and the laughter of the men behind him died abruptly. She looked over her shoulder and saw Duncan standing there, looking coldly over the small band of men, who backed up by a pace or two while the leader stood up straight, uncrossing his arms. Duncan walked forward and looked at Sasha.

"They're Ash Warriors," he said, answering her unspoken question. And then he turned his back on them, disregarding them completely.

"Come," he said, taking her hand and guiding her gently along with him, "We should get some rest. It's been a long day, and there's much to do tomorrow."

Sasha went with him gladly, ignoring the stares that followed them.


	22. Alistair

Later that night, Sasha awoke and rolled over to find Duncan gone. She sat up, feeling the chill air on her naked body as the blankets fell away. She shivered and looked around for her robe in the darkness, not wanting to leave the warmth.

Casting a small fire spell to light the wick on the lantern, she found Duncan's cloak first and drew it over herself. A moment later, the tent flap lifted, and someone came in.

"I was wondering where you went," Sasha said, looking around. But it wasn't Duncan. It was a younger man, about her age, with lighter skin and red hair like Cullen's. And she couldn't help but notice that he was quite good-looking.

"Ummm, have we met?" He asked, sounding confused. "I was looking for Duncan."

He examined her, noting Duncan's cloak and the lack of anything else and she blushed, embarrassed.

"He's not here."

"Right. Okay...Who are you again?"

"I'm Sasha. Duncan brought me here from the Circle of Magi."

"Oh," he said, sounding surprised. "Sorry. I knew he was bringing someone with him, but I wasn't expecting--uh--you," he said.

"You knew I was coming?" she asked him, surprised.

"Yes, Duncan sent word ahead. He speaks very highly of you." He cleared his throat. "Well, um, I should be going--"

Before he could turn to leave, Duncan came in. He stopped, looking from the visitor down to Sasha, sitting embarrassed on the floor of the tent. He smiled, amused at her discomfort.

"Yes, Alistair, what is it?" he said.

Sasha's ears pricked up at the name. She listened intently to their conversation while trying not to look interested.

"They sent me to get you--They're ready."

Duncan looked sharply at Alistair and then over to Sasha, and an expression of concern came over his face. He nodded once.

"Alright, we will be there shortly. Gather Daveth and Ser Jory and meet us in the courtyard."

Alistair nodded, then ducked out of the tent.

"What's going on?" Sasha asked Duncan, noting his worried expression.

"We are about to start the Joining. It is not something we share with outsiders, so we perform the ceremonies at night where there will be as few witnesses as possible."

Sasha got up and dressed. She made to grab her cloak but it wasn't there. She turned to find Duncan holding it at the entrance of the tent. She went to him and he wrapped her cloak around her. He fastened it at her throat, but he did not let go. He held her there gently.

"You will come back to me," he said.

She nodded. He pulled her to him more tightly.

"You _must_ come back to me," he whispered urgently, and then he let go, hurrying out of the tent without looking back.


	23. Preparations

Duncan stood outside by the bonfire waiting for Sasha. He hadn't counted on feeling this way, had tried to keep his feelings separated from his duties, but this time, it was different. She was going to go through the Joining and if she failed, as so many did, he would be the one who had administered her death.

Sasha joined him a short time later, looking nervous and scared, and they set off to meet the others. Arriving in the courtyard, Duncan could see a small crowd of people waiting for them. He approached with Sasha, in her robes and carrying her staff. One of the men, Ser Jory, drew back, visibly shaken by the sight of a mage roaming free.

Before Duncan could say anything, Alistair spoke, "What's the matter? Never seen a woman before?"

Daveth and Sasha both laughed while Duncan took the chance to move closer to Alistair.

"Are you ready Alistair?" he asked.

"As ready as you can be in these situations, I guess. What about you, though?" Alistair looked over at Sasha.

Duncan didn't answer. He knew his duty and would perform it. Sasha, too, knew the dangers and had accepted them. He wouldn't diminish her sacrifice by attempting to shield her from it.

He looked at Alistair, who was looking back at him with a mixture of pity and respect.

"Take care of your charges, Alistair," he said gravely.

Stepping forward, Duncan then addressed the group, who immediately quieted.

"Alright. If you are all ready, we shall begin the first stage of the Joining. You will take the South Gate into the Korcari Wilds to seek a set of ancient treaties and bring them back here. Alistair has directions to the location."

He paused for a moment, looking at each of them in turn.

"There is one other thing. You must each slay your first darkspawn and take its blood into a vial to be brought back with you. And you must do all this before sunrise. Do you understand?" They all nodded, and Duncan turned to Alistair.

"I leave them to you, then," he said simply.

"Right. Well, let's go then, shall we?" Alistair said, turning to lead the group to the southern exit.

Sasha trailed slightly behind the rest, and as she passed, Duncan reached out and caught her, drawing her to him for a quick kiss before silently sending her off into the Wilds.


	24. Realizations

The night was thick as the group headed out into the Wilds. Sasha lit her staff, taking the lead with instructions from Alistair. They were to follow the path that would guide them to the southern garrison, where they hoped the treaties would still be stored. A chill wind whispered through the trees, blowing ripples through the long grass all around them and catching Sasha's robes as it rushed past. She wondered how they were supposed to know darkspawn were coming in the dark of night when she was barely able to keep them from walking into a swamp, much less a band of dangerous monsters. Ser Jory voiced her opinion before she could, however, bringing the group to a halt.

"I'm no coward," he began, "but this just seems foolish. I have a wife and child at home..."

"Don't worry," Alistair assured him. "Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn, even if we can't see them."

Daveth laughed. “You see, ser knight? We might die, but we'll be warned about it first.”

"Well, we'll just have to watch each others' backs," Sasha said.

"Oh, I'll watch your back alright," Daveth grinned, looking her over.

"Boy, you're a charmer aren't you?" she replied, and he laughed again.

"Yeah, that's me, alright. I'd charm you right out of your pants if you were wearing any."

"That's another thing," Ser Jory broke in, also looking at Sasha, but with an entirely different expression on his face. "No one said anything about mages."

"Well, no need to worry about that either," Alistair replied, looking at Ser Jory in growing distaste. "I was raised in the Chantry, so I have Templar training."

"Well, at least we have a mage hunter with us to keep _it_ under control."

Sasha turned to him, prepared to be insulted, but the expression on his face shook her. She had the feeling that if he ever caught her alone, he'd teach her a lesson for being a mage, for being a woman, for being born. _'It,'_ he had called her.

Sasha had never really appreciated the secondary task of the Circle and its Templars before. The pledge they made to keep the mages safe from those outsiders who wished to do them harm. She didn't really have a concept of what that meant. Until now.

To her surprise and gratitude, Alistair and Daveth both seemed to take as much offense to it as she did. Daveth stepped forward, shoving Ser Jory back a few steps and Alistair immediately separated them both as Ser Jory made to retaliate.

A moment later, everyone came to a halt as a burst of flame went flying past them. They looked over at Sasha, and then Alistair looked behind Ser Jory to see a wolf lying just feet from him, flames rising from its still twitching corpse. Without a word, Sasha turned around and continued down the path, leaving the men to catch up to her. Alistair was the first to do so, coming up to walk beside her.

"I'm sorry--" he began awkwardly, but Sasha cut him off.

"Don't bother," she snapped, speeding up her pace. She knew it wasn't fair, that Alistair had done nothing except come to her aid, but she didn't care at the moment. She was hurt and angry. And meeting someone like Ser Jory made her wonder how many of the others at the camp had thought of her that way. _Like those Ash Warriors_ , she remembered, their attitudes starting to make more sense.

In her anger, Sasha had advanced quite a bit ahead of the others, which she realized only when she heard a cry from behind her.

"Darkspawn!" Alistair shouted, drawing his sword. "Two...no, three of them!"

"How do you know?" came Daveth's voice.

"Now's not the time for questions, Daveth," Alistair responded dryly.

"Sasha! Where are you?" he called.

At his first shout, Sasha had extinguished the light on her staff, knowing that it would draw the creatures straight to her. Now that it was out, however, she found that she could no longer see anything in the darkness. Slowly moving in the direction Alistair's voice had last come from, she made her way to them blindly. Waiting for her eyes to grow used to the lack of light, she made out a movement ahead. A dark shape stalking toward her. Was it one of her companions? Or was it one of those monsters she had yet to face?

The shadow stopped, whipping its head around in her direction and sniffing the air. Sasha realized at once that this was no man, and she froze, thinking that any movement she made would give away her position. Slowly, the creature turned to face her, its glowing red eyes seeing all too well in the darkness. It came rushing toward her with no warning, springing forth to rip her apart.

Sasha screamed and threw her arms up to shield herself, unable to see what came next.


	25. Morrigan

There was a loud thud and a scream rent the air. Sasha opened her eyes and saw Alistair standing in front of her, shield out and sword drawn, blood dripping from its tip onto the ground at his feet.

"Prepare yourself!" he yelled at her, jarring her into action. She got up and lit her staff, only now seeing her mistake. Now that she knew the creatures could see in the dark, she realized they would likely be sensitive to light. Plus, her group would now regain the advantage of sight, giving them an edge over their foes.

Another of the monsters came hurtling at her out of the darkness. As it entered the ring of light, she shoved the fireball spell she had been building out through the tip of her staff and straight into its face. The creature squealed and dropped to the ground, frantically trying to extinguish the residual flames from her spell.

An arrow whizzed by her then, so close to her head that it grazed her cheek as it went by, thudding into Alistair's shield, which had appeared in front of her once more.

"Daveth!" Alistair yelled, pointing his sword in the direction the missile had come from. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to see his target, Sasha drew energies from herself and the world around her, building up a powerful electric charge and releasing it in the direction Alistair was pointing. The sizzling ball flew into the air where it erupted, dividing into several smaller arcs of lightning that struck down out of the sky, forming a cage around the final darkspawn.

"Now!" Alistair shouted, and Daveth released a well-aimed shot right into its heart before Ser Jory appeared behind it. Sasha released her spell and Ser Jory took its head off in one swipe of his greatsword. The beast thudded heavily to the ground at his feet, blood still spurting from its neck.

Sasha's spell died away, leaving behind only the soft glow of her staff for light once more. Daveth and Ser Jory used it to find them after gathering blood from the fallen. Alistair looked at Sasha, who had not moved to do the same. She was staring at the blood dripping from Alistair's sword, thinking about the blood that had been taken from her as a small child and stored in a phylactery to be used if anyone ever needed to hunt her down. Then she thought about the blood gushing from Jowan's wound as he fed his energies to demons in exchange for their power. Whatever they were doing in this ritual, whatever the result of it was, she had the feeling that it came at a great cost. This was blood magic.

Sasha felt the vial being tugged from her grasp and she released it. She watched as Alistair stooped down and filled it for her, wiping it clean and then tucking it into his pack.

"Well done," Alistair said, standing back up and addressing the group. "Now we just need to retrieve the treaties and make our way back to camp."

"Come," he said softly to Sasha, taking her hand and tugging her gently along as they made their way south and east to the garrison. They ran into no more darkspawn and the creatures that might once have attacked shrank away after witnessing the threat this group posed. There was easier prey to be had.

They arrived at their destination, looking around at the desolated building. There was no way the treaties could have survived such destruction. Disappointment ran through the group as they turned to Alistair for guidance in completing their mission.

"We should report back to Duncan," he said. "After all, we have what we really need, but it would have been beneficial to all involved to have those treaties on hand when we call upon other nations to aid us in facing the Blight."

"Ah, so that is why you have trespassed here," came a clear, feminine voice.

They all jumped and looked around, trying to find the source. Seeing no one, Daveth moved closer to Ser Jory, saying, "It must be one of them witches! A witch of the wild!"

The voice laughed, and it echoed all around them as though it was coming from everywhere all at once. It stopped and a moment later a woman stepped forth into a long beam of light cast across the center of what used to be a room but was now simply an overgrown ruin.

The stranger was tall and voluptuous, as was readily seen through the thin strips of fabric she wore over her breasts and the torn and belted skirt that sat low on her hips. All of a sudden, Sasha felt very inadequate with her petite frame when she compared herself to this woman.

"I ask you again," the woman said. "Is that why you have trespassed here?"

"We're not trespassing," Alistair said, stepping forward. "This tower once belonged to the Wardens."

"Yes, it _once_ belonged to the Wardens," the woman agreed, "but no longer. If you are truly here for the scrolls, however, you are rather late."

"What? Did you steal them then, witch?" Set Jory spat at her.

The woman raised her brows at him, completely unintimidated, then turned to address Sasha instead.

"You there. Girl. Are you more sensible than your companions? What may I call you?"

Sasha flushed at the way she had been addressed, particularly in light of her current feelings, but she responded politely with her name and requested the same in return.

"You may call me Morrigan," was the reply.

"Morrigan," Sasha repeated. "Nice to meet you."

Morrigan stared at Sasha as though she had never seen anything like her before.

"You said the scrolls are no longer here? Do you know where they are?"

"Indeed, I do. My mother has them."

At this, Alistair sniggered loudly, trying but failing, to turn it into a cough.

"Yes?" Morrigan asked him coldly.

"Well, it's just funny. To think of someone like--well, like you--having a mother."

"And why shouldn't I have a mother? Doesn't everyone? I am no different. Indeed, Mother has been guarding those scrolls since this tower fell into disrepair. If you still wish to retrieve them, I will take you to her, and you can ask her for them yourself."

Morrigan turned abruptly and walked out of the moonlight, leading the group to their purpose.


	26. Flemeth

The group followed Morrigan from the ruins, Sasha once again in the lead. Morrigan only took them a short distance, but it was directly into the Wilds and they had soon lost all sense of direction. The grounds were dark with much of the moonlight being blocked the deeper they went into the trees. Sasha highly doubted they would find their way back out alone and she began to question whether they should have followed their guide so blindly.

As doubt was creeping upon her, they arrived in a small clearing with a hut, a fire, and an old woman bent over a large cooking pot.

 _So_ , Sasha thought with some surprise, _she really was taking us to her mother._

"Hello, Mother," Morrigan called out as they approached. "I have brought you guests."

"I see them, girl," the old woman said, standing up to look at the intruders. "Why have you come here?"

"We're looking for the treaties that were once stored in the southern garrison," Alistair said quickly. "You're--um--daughter here was just saying that you were in possession of them."

Morrigan raised her eyebrows at Alistair and the old woman laughed, clearly amused.

"Ah, I am indeed."

"Why would you keep them?" Alistair asked. "I mean, you didn't have to."

She looked at him closely and said, "The Grey Wardens are the only ones who can save us from being destroyed by another Blight. It is coming. We are, all of us, in equal peril."

"Thank you," Sasha spoke up. "What may we call you?"

"Such manners!" she replied, laughing once more. "I am called many things, but you may call me Flemeth."

" _The_ Flemeth?!" Daveth nearly shouted, taken aback. "Then it's t-true! You are a w-witch of the Wilds!"

"What's he talking about?" Sasha asked Alistair, confused. Alistair shook his head, just as dumbfounded.

"It is a tale for another time," Flemeth smiled. "But if you are asking if we are apostates who choose to live in the freedom of the Wilds, then yes. I suppose that would be accurate."

"Now, girl," Flemeth said, turning to Morrigan. "See them back safely, but do not tarry. I need you here."

"Yes, Mother," Morrigan replied in a bored tone. "Come! We leave at once."

They arrived back at the southern gate in what felt like no time at all. They entered, heading gratefully for the fire and saw Duncan standing there with his head bowed. He looked up quickly at their approach, visibly relieved at their return.

Alistair relayed the details of their meeting with Morrigan and her mother, and then the recruits handed around their vials. Duncan excused them, then turned to Alistair, who took Sasha's vial from his pack and gave it to him. Duncan looked back over at Sasha and saw the blood trickling down her cheek where the arrow had caught her face. He made his way over to her and Alistair left them.

"You should go to the healers," he said.

"I'm not hurt," Sasha said, distractedly.

He ran a finger along the long, thin cut, still wet with blood. "It may scar if you do not."

She shrugged, not looking at him.

"What is the matter?"

"Nothing."

At this, Duncan raised his eyebrows and Sasha laughed despite herself, then recounted her interactions with Ser Jory that night.

"I see," he said quietly. "Well, do not let it concern you. You do not need his approval or anyone else's for that matter. After all, what is their worth compared to yours?"

She smiled gratefully at him and he kissed her lightly on the forehead before sending her off to the healers while he prepared for the final stage of the Joining.


	27. The Joining

Duncan stood waiting by the stone altar, the last remnant of the magnificent chapel that had once occupied this section of the keep, watching Alistair approach with his charges. Everything was prepared, and it was far too late for hesitation or doubt. He must be strong in his duty.

Duncan had already prepared everything for the ritual. It was something they kept secret even among the Wardens, only the top tier of whom knew the exact steps. For it was, indeed, a working of blood magic. The darkspawn blood was mixed with Lyrium and a drop of blood from an Archdemon in order to connect them to the Blight. Very few people had even a slight chance of surviving the Joining, which is why the Wardens chose their recruits with such care, even when they were in dire need. It took more than physical strength or even the want to do right. It required a combined strength of mind, body, and soul that few possessed.

Duncan looked at Sasha. She would make it. He knew she would. He had known it ever since he had first met her. Even after her ordeal at the tower, it only seemed to make her more sure of who she was and what she believed. She had picked up the pieces and moved on, struggling silently to put them back together.

Alistair arrived at the base of the altar and looked to Duncan.

"So, at last, we come to the Joining," Duncan said, looking around at them all. "The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight. When humanity stood at the brink of annihilation, so it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood--and mastered their taint."

"We're going to drink the blood of those creatures?!" Ser Jory cried.

Duncan looked at him. "As the first Grey Wardens did before us. As we did before you. This is the source of our power--and our victory."

"After the Joining, Grey Wardens are connected to the Blight and are immune to it from that time on. We can use it to sense the darkspawn and kill the Archdemon," Alistair said.

"We say only a few words prior to the Joining and these words have been said since the first. Alistair, if you will."

"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."

A shiver went around the group and something stirred in the darkness. Sasha could feel the magical energies of the ritual formulating around them. Whatever was to come, there was no turning back now.

"Step forward, Daveth," Duncan ordered. Daveth did so, taking the goblet offered him and drinking its contents. For a minute, it seemed as though nothing had happened, then suddenly he clutched his head and began screaming, sinking onto his knees in his anguish. Sasha watched in horror as his eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he collapsed, dead on the ground.

"I am sorry, Daveth," Duncan said, sounding genuinely sad.

"You will be remembered," Alistair added.

"Ser Jory, step forth," Duncan said, turning back to the altar to refill the goblet.

Alistair was watching Duncan, but Sasha was watching Ser Jory. He was backing slowly away, a look of horror on his face. She watched as he reached his hand toward the hilt of his sword and lunged at Duncan's back.

"Duncan!" Sasha cried out, and he turned just in time to duck Ser Jory's wild swing, unsheathing his dagger and driving it into the man's chest. Ser Jory bucked and dropped his sword as blood began gushing thick and dark from the wound. Duncan pushed Ser Jory back, wiping his dagger before putting it away. Sasha looked down at Ser Jory. His eyes were wide in shock and fear, his skin becoming paler as his blood seeped into the stones beneath him.

"I am sorry," Duncan said, not sounding sorry at all.

Alistair said nothing. They watched him die. Then Duncan turned to Sasha, who was still standing there in complete shock. She had never seen a man killed before, much less a man killed in front of her eyes by the very person with whom she shared her bed.

"Once he drew his sword, it was over," Duncan said, looking at her with concern, wishing for her to understand. Sasha knew that what he said was true, but she still couldn't get the image of it out of her head.

"Sasha," he said, turning her face to his. "You saved me; thank you."

"Wh-what?" Sasha blinked, confused. "Oh. Well, I, uh, you're welcome."

Duncan smiled at her, then turned to retrieve the goblet from the altar. "Sasha, step forth. Your new life awaits."

Sasha looked at the two men lying dead on the ground at her feet, then up at Duncan, who had saved her. Duncan, who comforted her. Duncan, whom she trusted.

 _'_ _As the first did before us...as we did before you,'_ she thought.

Yes, that's right, she could see it now. This was the point of the Joining. It literally joined the Wardens together into an unbreakable blood bond. And while that bond tied them to the Blight, it also tied them to each other.

 _‘As we did before you.'_ As Duncan had done, so would she. Sasha stepped forward and placed her hands over both of his, entwining their fingers together and looking into his eyes as she lifted the goblet to her lips and drank.


	28. The Dream

Sasha was standing on the top of what seemed to be an underground mountain range. Peaks and valleys were covering the vast chamber. The rocks jutting up from the ground were black and menacing. She looked down into the great valley below her at the multitude of bodies that filled it. Wherever there was space, there were darkspawn crammed into it. They fought each other and bit themselves in their mindless fury until a terrible cry rang out, echoing endlessly through the cavern. The creatures below howled and cringed until the sound died away. Sasha looked around for the source of the noise, and as she turned to look behind her a great head reared out of the darkness before her, beastly eyes glowing in fury. The great, black dragon opened its mouth to screech its knowledge of her presence when her awareness was yanked back out of the darkness of the underground caves to the relative light of the twilit sky above her.

A moment later, Duncan's face swam into view with Alistair's following close behind.

"Welcome," Duncan said, relieved, as he held out his hand to her.

Sasha took it, and he pulled her gently to her feet, supporting her with one arm around her waist.

"How do you feel?" he asked her, still concerned. He knew how difficult the Joining could be on new recruits. What they experienced went far beyond the visions and the pain. It struck their very core, leaving a seed of darkness inside, forever tainting them with its presence. But it also drew them together. They were closer now than they ever could be otherwise. And she sensed it too.

"I'm...okay...I don't know," she said, still trying to regain her bearings.

Alistair came forward then, handing her a pendant containing a drop of the blood she had just consumed.

"Here, take it. It's a reminder of the cost of our sacrifice. Wear it and remember those who did not make it."

Sasha nodded her thanks and took it, putting it on and tucking it under her robes. It was surprisingly warm on her skin where the blood in the pendant resonated with her own, and she could feel her strength of will increasing simply by its presence.

"Come. It is done," Duncan said, taking her hand and lightly pulling her away from the chapel and back into the courtyard. She allowed him to do so, drawing close to him and he wrapped his arm protectively around her.

She felt strange. Like she was still herself, but different somehow. Like something more than blood had been taken into her body. There was a taint there that allowed her to see the true horrors that lay before them all. The endless number of darkspawn filling that cavern--with the Archdemon at its head, just as Duncan had said. She understood now how condemning a few to save them all was more than just an honorable belief for the Wardens. It was a terrible duty that they could not foreswear, as Alistair had said.

When she thought about Alistair, a strange thing happened. She felt a pulse within her as though some kind of connection had been made simply by focusing on him. She wondered if he had felt it too or if it was just her imagination as her mind attempted to adjust itself to its new reality.

Sasha looked up at Duncan, letting him guide her steps as she focused on him now. She could feel the relief, the pain, the guilt, the burning desire, all battling within him. She could tell how much being a Warden and having her join him in that bond, meant to him. But she could also feel the blame he felt for subjecting her to it, and for hesitating in his sworn duty when it had come time. Sasha slipped her arm around him and lay her head against him as they walked, and he looked down at her gratefully.

The moment they entered the tent, they were on each other. Wordlessly, Sasha struggled to get Duncan free of his armor while he pulled her robe over her head. Then she pushed him down onto their makeshift bed and rode him with desperation. She came almost at once only to have Duncan grab her, pulling her down to him and holding her tightly just until she stopped trembling. Then he rolled over, pinning her beneath him and taking her in turn, almost unable to ease the desire even while he was inside her. They finished together, each with a quiet urgency they could not control. Afterward, he cradled her to him as she drifted off into a troubled sleep, relieved simply to be holding her in his arms once more.


	29. The War Council

Sasha awoke late the next day. She got up and dressed, then stepped from the tent to go in search of food. When she stepped outside, however, she found Alistair sitting quietly by the cold fire pit, waiting for her with some food and drink at his side. He looked up as she exited the tent and smiled at her.

"Hi," he said. "Duncan was called to a war council, so he asked me to bring you some food. How are you feeling?"

"Better," Sasha said truthfully as she sat down next to him, taking the offered meal gratefully. She was famished. Alistair sat quietly, watching her eat. After a while, he seemed to realize he was staring at her and looked away.

Sasha smiled at him. "I'm glad you're here. I wanted to thank you for last night. I mean, you know, for saving me from that darkspawn and for standing up for me when Ser Jory--"

She stopped. Thinking about Ser Jory made her think about his death, which made her think about the Joining and the Blight.

"Don't worry about it," Alistair said. "I'm glad you're okay. There aren't many who survive the Joining. Did you have bad dreams?"

Sasha shook a little despite herself as she recalled the vast hordes of darkspawn, the archdemon, and the overwhelming whisper of the hive mind invading her thoughts. The closer the vicinity of another darkspawn or Warden, the stronger the connection, which is how they were able to sense when darkspawn were near. There was a caveat, however. The darkspawn could sense them, too.

"Yes," she said. "Is it always like that?"

"Not always. You get used to it after a while, but it never goes away entirely."

As they were talking, an Elven courier approached, keeping a respectful distance. Giving them a slight bow, he requested their presence before the king. Looking at each other in surprise, they rose and went with him. When they arrived at the war council, they found Cailan, Loghain, and Duncan deep in discussion. They waited until Duncan motioned them forward, then approached cautiously.

Duncan turned to address them, looking troubled.

"The scouts have returned with disturbing news. There is a vast horde moving this way with great speed. They report that the darkspawn will be here by sundown. We must prepare at once. Sasha, as you are our only mage, I want you as far from the front lines as possible. Alistair, you will guard her. The two of you will make your way to the Tower of Ishal, to the north. When the mages on the field give the command, you must light the signal fire so that Loghain's men know when to attack. Do you understand?"

"Wait!" Alistair nearly shouted. "I won't be fighting in the battle?"

Duncan just looked at him, like a stern father silently admonishing a child and Alistair bowed his head.

"Yes, Duncan. I understand."

Sasha didn't say anything. _Already?_ she thought to herself. Everything seemed to be moving so fast; they had only just arrived at Ostagar and the battle was already upon them. She remembered the dreams left over from the Joining that she had just passed mere hours ago, and wondered if the sensation would be recreated in her waking mind with such a multitude of darkspawn on their doorstep.

When the king and his men had left, Duncan came over to join them.

"I must help with the preparations. Sasha, you should go to the armorer and the weapon-smith before the battle. Alistair will go with you."

Recognizing the dismissal, they turned and walked off to retrieve her few belongings. Back at the tent, Sasha threw Duncan's cloak over her shoulders, grabbed her gear, and went off in search of the armory with Alistair.


	30. Goodbyes

Several hours later found Alistair and Sasha standing by the fire, silently awaiting Duncan's return. It was growing late now. Doubtless, with the Archdemon leading them, this was the darkspawn's strategy. Attack under cover of night when they had the advantage of clear sight.

Sasha wore new robes of a deep midnight blue lined with fine silver threadings, and she wore Duncan's cloak on top. She hadn't been able to find a new staff, but the Enchanter at the mages' compound had improved her own. She was also now in possession of a new dagger, though she chose to let it accompany her old one rather than replace it.

Alistair stood close by her in his chainmail, sword on his hip, shield and crossbow strapped to his back. He was standing slightly in front and to the side of Sasha, and the fire cast a glow on his face so that she was able to study his profile. He had striking features, strong and graceful. Almost regal, somehow. And though he was cocky and self-assured, he was also kind and possessed of a boyish nature that she found appealing.

At last, after what seemed like an eternity, Duncan returned. He approached them, battle-ready.

"Well, it is time. Are you ready?"

They both nodded, unable to speak.

"Good. Sasha, I wish to speak with Alistair for a moment. Can you wait for me inside the tent?"

Sasha nodded and left. Duncan waited until she had gone before turning to Alistair.

"Listen to me, Alistair. I know you wish to fight at my side, but you are the only one I can trust to keep her safe from harm. No matter what happens to me, you must protect her. I am leaving her in your care."

Seeing that he wished to argue, Duncan continued, "You wish to be my right hand, yes?"

Alistair stopped, then nodded.

"I have sworn to protect this girl. That she would have my arm as her shield. You and I both know I don't have much time left regardless of how the battle ends tonight. You must do me this one great favor, Alistair. Please."

Alistair recognized the death thoughts in his mentor's words. Worse, he sensed the acceptance they represented.

"Don't say such things, Duncan. You aren't going to die."

Duncan stopped him with a look. One that was filled with weariness and pain.

"Do you wish me to treat you as a child, Alistair, or as an equal?"

"You're right, Duncan," Alistair said at once, abashed. "I apologize. Of course, I will do as you ask."

"Your word?"

"My word."

"Good," Duncan said, instantly businesslike. "Wait for us at the bridge. We will meet you there shortly."

Duncan ducked inside the tent after Sasha, where he gathered her into his arms, burying his face in her hair. He remembered the ring she had given him and smiled down at it, thinking that she couldn't have chosen a better gift. She looked back at him, but she did not speak. They held each other wordlessly for all the time they had left and then he kissed her one final time before taking her to Alistair.

And then he was gone.


	31. The Battle of Ostagar

Duncan rushed away into the night. It hurt to leave Sasha with Alistair, knowing in his heart what that meant. He acknowledged that it must be done, however, and was comforted by the idea that she had someone to protect her once he was gone.

Duncan soon reached the king on the front lines and joined him, settling their helms and drawing their swords together. Out in the night, they saw the body of the horde creating a massive shadow beneath the red lights burning on hundreds of torches. Duncan looked to the tower where Sasha and Alistair were headed, then back to the senior mages standing by.

"Wynne! Uldred! Are you ready?" he called.

"Ready!" they replied. They had the contact spell held prepared so that when Duncan gave the signal, they could immediately cast a rune that would appear at the foot of the beacon. In the meantime, Loghain's men were to be advancing to flanking positions, ready to attack at the signal.

The king indicated the release of the first volley of arrows as the growling of the horde grew into a rumble that they could feel vibrating through the ground beneath them. A rush of fiery arrows flew through the night, followed almost immediately by another. The hounds went next, springing into the front lines as the darkspawn came rushing toward them. They met in a bloody clash of nails and teeth, growling and clawing each other in a mad frenzy.

There were only five mages left on the battlefield with Wynne and Uldred being taken out. Two of those held barriers and outer defenses as best they could, slowing the onslaught of the enemy to give their soldiers an advantage. The rest cast as many area spells as they could, releasing them in timed intervals so that the previous caster could recharge their mana while the next was casting their spell.

But the darkspawn just seemed to keep coming. Their numbers were endless. For every one they brought down, two more seemed to spring into their place. Giant ogres came crashing in next, finally breaking through the barrier. At this, Duncan called for the signal to be released. Wynne concentrated the spell towards its location and Uldred cast it out into the night, then they immediately rejoined the other mages who began to retreat as the enemy moved closer and closer to their own front lines. Duncan looked up to the top of the tower and saw the signal fire there, glowing bright into the night. His heart leaped. They had made it to the tower. They had lit the signal fire. They still had a chance.

The King grinned and the soldiers cheered. They paused, expecting Loghain's men to come to their aid, to strengthen their numbers and cut off the continuous flow of these creatures. But no help came. And the few who were left were now distracted. A fatal combination. The King's face fell as he looked around in confusion and in that moment, one of the great ogres took him off guard, grabbing him in its mighty claws. Duncan watched in horror as the great beast crushed King Cailan to death and then simply tossed him aside where he landed in a broken heap.

Duncan stood staring across the bloody battlefield and knew that they had been betrayed. They had all know Loghain mistrusted the Wardens and resented the king's insistence that they wait for help from Orlais. After everything Loghain and Meric had done to drive the cruel bastards from their lands, Loghain would never invite them back in. Even so, no one expected this. There was no way they could win under these crushing numbers when half of their own forces had just abandoned them and the rest were now glancing around in confusion--and paying the price for their inattention. Duncan looked up at the burning tower, imagining that he could see Sasha and Alistair. He brought the lock of her hair to his lips, taking in the sweet smell of wildflowers. Then he took out both of his daggers and rushed for the ogre that had just downed his king. A war cry escaped his throat. 

"For the Wardens!" he yelled, both daggers held high. He leaped into the air and stabbed the creature high in the chest, using one dagger to leverage the other up for a higher cut, plunging them in one after the other and climbing the creature until he was within reach of its monstrous head. With one final lunge, Duncan stabbed the massive ogre in the throat, bringing it down in a mass of limbs and blood.

He fell with it, rolling off as it slammed into the ground. Then he rushed to the King's side. But King Cailan was already gone. He felt a great darkness rush around him, as though the dark whispers in his mind had manifested themselves in the physical realm. And then the horde swarmed over Ostagar and all else in its path.

Everything went black and Duncan saw no more.


	32. Betrayal

Sasha and Alistair stood at the base of the signal fire. They had fought their way to the top through a host of darkspawn that had seemingly come up from underground caverns. They were battered and bloodied, but still, they fought the darkspawn swarm. Together, they brought down their last enemy just as the rune at the base of the brazier began to glow. It was the signal to light the fire. It was what they had been waiting for.

Sasha aimed her staff and sent a fireball straight into the heart of the great bonfire, the flames bursting high into the night.

"What's happening?!" Sasha screamed, unable to see the battle below them. Behind them, they could hear more monsters clawing their way through the final door that kept them at bay.

"I don't know!"Alistair yelled back. He leaned over the parapet, watching the figures clashing together on the field, but no new men came to their aid. He could make out the king's men and the Wardens, but not a single one of Loghain's soldiers were to be found.

Alistair turned around at a crashing sound behind him. The first of the darkspawn had broken through the door. Sasha sent a fireball at it, splashing some of the surrounding enemies with flames as well. She was running low on mana now. Her stamina was completely spent, and the pain of her many injuries began to burst through, making it difficult to draw the energy she needed to cast more spells.

She backed up to where Alistair stood, gasping for breath while he held his sword and shield at the ready. The odds were against them, but they would fight to the very last. Because they were Wardens. Because they were Duncan's last hope. Alistair defended Sasha from further harm as best he could. She, in turn, casting whatever spells her lingering energies were capable of.

Together, they backed to the very edge of the tower. There was nowhere to go but down and that was as certain a death as this one. At least here they could fight to the last, spending every last ounce of energy to bring down their foes. To take down as many of the murdering, inhuman bastards as they could. It was their duty. It was all that they had left to them.

As a well-armed and armored Hurlock broke through the ranks of darkspawn, Alistair turned himself to face this newest danger. He brought his shield around too, and in that moment, a Genlock rogue sent a thick, black bolt straight into Sasha's chest, tearing through her robes and sending her flying backward with the force of the blow.

Alistair watched as though in slow motion as Sasha fell backward from the impact, the blood already gushing forth from the wound. He screamed, dropping his guard as he ran to her side. The Genlock disappeared under a veil.

"No! Sasha!" he screamed. The one thing Duncan had asked of him. The one thing that he had required. And he had failed. He hadn't protected her. He leaped to his feet in anger, grasping his sword and shield so tightly that his knuckles cracked. He rushed the enemy.

The Genlock dropped his veil and appeared behind him. He had switched his bow for 2 daggers, curved and evil looking. They slashed through the air and into Alistair's shield arm. Alistair turned to block the Genlock and the Hurlock used the distraction to drive its club into Alistair's head. He crumpled to the floor next to Sasha. The darkness rolled over them both, as it had over Duncan. As it would over all of Ostagar. From the tide of the darkspawn that had now been released upon Fereldan, to the blood of the men and women that soaked the battlefield, to the hearts of those who had chosen to let their comrades die. What hope had they now with the king dead and the last of the Wardens gone? A darkness had fallen over Thedas, and there was no one left to stem the tide.


	33. Aftermath

Sasha rolled in and out of awareness for some time. Or were they simply dreams? She wasn't sure. She thought during one of these awakenings that perhaps she was dead, but then the pain rolled over her, sending her back into the darkness once more. The next time she came to, she realized she couldn't be dead if she could still feel pain, though that didn't help her deal with it any better.

Gradually, she began to make out details during her conscious moments. She was in a room. Wooden walls and floors. A bed. An old woman, leaning over her, chanting strange words. A younger woman peering into her face. A man with his head bowed. He had red hair. Like Cullen's hair. But it couldn't be Cullen. He was back at the tower. And where was she?

_Where am I?_ Sasha opened her eyes, this thought still standing out in her head. She looked above her and saw a bare ceiling. Turning her head, she saw the young woman again. Sasha recognized her as the person they had met during their trip into the Wilds. That must be where she was then. At the small cabin in the clearing to the south of Ostagar. But how had she come to be there?

"How are you feeling?" the woman said. "My name is Morrigan, lest you have forgotten. Here, sit up slowly and have some water before you try to speak."

Sasha did so, with some help, before managing to say weakly, "What happened?"

"Your king is dead, as are all of your comrades save one. Your king's man, Loghain, quit the field instead of coming to your aid and the might of the horde overwhelmed the rest easily."

Sasha sat in shock, feeling numb with disbelief. _Everyone was dead? How could this happen?_

And then a worse thought occurred to her. _'Save one.'_

"Who?" she exclaimed.

"Who, what?"

"All of my comrades 'save one.'"

"Ah. A young man named Alistair. He was not seriously harmed. You, however, have been on death's door for some time now, but it seems you shall live. Your friend will be relieved. He was quite convinced you were dead."

Sasha stared at this woman who said such terrible things with such coldness. All of her comrades. So that meant--

Sasha made to stand up and nearly fell over.

"Wait! What are you doing? You shouldn't be up yet."

Sasha said nothing, just continued struggling toward the door. She had to see. She had to know.

Morrigan stared at her for a moment and then moved to help her. Sasha felt a rush of gratitude toward her and allowed herself to be braced on one side and led across the room. Morrigan opened the door, helping Sasha through.

Alistair looked up, expecting to see only Morrigan. He cried out when he saw Sasha appear next to her, white and shaking as she forced herself across the threshold.

"You're alive! I thought surely you were--" he stopped and shook his head, then seemed to realize what was going on.

"What are you doing bringing her out here in this state?!" he shouted at Morrigan, who looked offended but said nothing. Once again, Sasha felt an appreciation for her guide, who seemed to know instinctively that it was not her place to respond.

"Duncan?" Sasha whispered, quieting Alistair at once. She held him with her gaze and saw the truth in his face. The tears began without her realizing she had started to cry.

Sasha sank slowly to her knees and then bent forward and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. No one said anything; no one touched her. They just let her cry until she could cry no more. Eventually, Alistair made to help her back into the hut, but Morrigan stopped him with a glance.

She bent down and faced Sasha, her hand stretched toward her. Sasha could feel her intentions, as though Morrigan were telling her that she had to bear the weight of her own grief and figure out how to stand up and move forward on her own. And slowly, very slowly, she did stand up. She grasped Morrigan's hand and pulled herself to her feet. Morrigan helped her make her way back to the hut and shut the door behind them.


	34. The Hut

A few days later, Sasha and Alistair were sitting next to the fire with Flemeth.

"So," Alistair said. "I suppose we should thank you."

"You suppose? How very gracious of you."

"Thank you," Sasha said earnestly. "You saved our lives."

Flemeth looked at her. "No, thank you. For without your sacrifice, there can be no end to the Blight. Only Wardens can slay the Archdemon. So, the question is, what will you do now?"

Sasha looked at Alistair, who shrugged. "There aren't any Wardens left in Ferelden now. Well, except for us, I suppose. There are others in parts of Orlais, but the couriers Duncan sent ahead are already on their way. Any attempt to contact them with news would only slow them down."

"Where's headquarters?" Sasha asked him.

"Weisshaupt Fortress. Too far to do any good."

"What else is left to us, then?"

"I think you are forgetting something," the old woman interrupted. "You came to me very recently seeking the ancient treaties being kept here. Those documents would require the allied peoples of Ferelden to give aid to the Wardens in times of a Blight."

Alistair stared at her, seeming as though he was on the verge of laughter. "Wait, you're saying that the junior member of the order and the recruit who only just passed her Joining are supposed to--do what? Build an army large enough to fight back the darkspawn?"

"Yes."

"You've got to be joking," he said, turning to Sasha. "She's joking, right?"

"What other choice is there?" Flemeth asked. "There is a Blight on your doorstep, like it or not. There is an archdemon leading the Horde, as you both must have seen."

Alistair and Sasha glanced at each other in surprise, then looked back to the old woman again.

"You must be the ones to stem this tide. There is no one else left."

"But--" Alistair began.

"You're right," Sasha interrupted.

"What?!"

"She's right. You said it yourself; there is no one else. We are the only ones who can perform this duty, so we must do it. We will take the treaties and go to the dwarves and the elves and anyone else we can find to help us drive the darkspawn back. It's what Duncan would have done. What he died trying to do."

Alistair thought about what she had said. "Okay. So, where do we start?"

"Who do we have treaties for?"

Alistair pulled the papers out of his pack and looked at them. "The dwarves, the Dalish, and the Circle of Magi."

None of these options seemed particularly appealing to her at the moment. She had never met a dwarf, having lived in the tower for most of her life. The Dalish didn't want anything to do with anyone. Everyone, even mages, knew that. And the Circle. The place she had finally escaped. Not enough time hadn't passed to make her feel comfortable returning there yet.

"Is there nowhere else?"

"Well, we could go to Redcliffe."

"What's in Redcliffe?"

"Arl Eamon. He is--was--King Cailan's uncle."

Flemeth looked at Alistair shrewdly, and he continued quickly, "Duncan mentioned that Eamon was prepared to send more troops to aid in the coming battles should we need them."

Sasha looked at Flemeth, following her gaze back to Alistair, whose ears began to redden. He stood up, walking off to the edge of the clearing.

"So, we'll go to Redcliffe, then?" Sasha asked, staring at Alistair's back. She felt lonely without Duncan, and she pulled his cloak more tightly around her, smelling his lingering scent in the well-worn fabric, and feeling close to tears again.

"If I may offer a suggestion," Morrigan said, appearing by the fire. "You may want to stop in Lothering first. It is a small town a few days' travel to the North of here."

"Yes, I know it," Sasha said. She and Duncan had stopped there on their way to Ostagar. "So, then, what? We will head to Lothering first. Then we go to Redcliffe to seek an audience with Arl Eamon?"

Alistair nodded his agreement, and Flemeth her approval, adding "And you will take Morrigan with you."

There was a stunned silence. "What do you mean by this, Mother?"

Flemeth laughed. "What's the matter, girl? You're always saying you wish to go out and see the world. Well, now is your chance. This task is too important to fail. They will need your skills and your guidance."

Turning to Sasha and Alistair, she addressed them. "I send with you that which is most precious to me. You must not fail."

Morrigan turned to Sasha, who looked at her with a mixture of welcome and jealousy, but she nodded her acceptance. Alistair had been looking at Sasha, and seeing her reaction, he seemed to resign himself to it.

"Well, I hope you can cook," he said.

"I can--cook...Why?"

"You don't have to cook," Sasha broke in, looking at Alistair in exasperation.

"Your loss," Alistair said. "It's burnt-something from here on out then. Unless you can cook any better than I can."

Sasha found herself grinning for the first time in days. She shook her head, then looked back at Morrigan.

"So, you can cook, huh?"

Morrigan sighed deeply and, giving her mother a dirty look, packed a few things, grabbed her staff, and prepared to lead them out of the Wilds.


	35. Into the Wilds

Morrigan took the lead as soon as the group left the little clearing, putting at least 10 feet between herself and the others. Alistair and Sasha walked behind, wary of their surroundings but without too much concern. Flemeth had told them that most of the darkspawn had disappeared back below ground, save a few stragglers. And Alistair could sense any darkspawn coming with enough time to warn them.

"Why can't I sense the darkspawn?" Sasha asked Alistair as they walked.

"Well, it usually takes time. And the closer you are to the darkspawn or other Wardens, the more strongly you'll feel it."

"Is it the same for everyone?"

"I don't think so. I asked Duncan about it once. He said it can vary depending on the person, but that mages seemed to have a deeper connection than the rest."

Sasha thought about that for a minute. Perhaps that was why she had felt the link so strongly with Duncan and Alistair directly after the Joining. She looked at Alistair, who had continued walking, staring at the ground. She could sense that his soul was in turmoil, and it was not hard to figure out why. From the knowledge of Loghain's treachery, the loss of all the Wardens and the King's men, the Blight that now threatened to overwhelm Thedas. But there was more to it than that. He was mourning his friend and mentor every bit as much as she was, if not more. He had known him much longer than she had, after all.

"How well did you know Duncan?" she asked him.

Alistair looked at her in surprise for a moment, then his face softened and he replied sadly, "Not long, I guess. Around six months or so. But it felt like I had known him much longer. He found me in a chantry, where I had been raised since I was 10. I didn't want to be there and was terribly bitter about it, thinking I would never find an escape. And then Duncan came. He was the first person that ever asked me what I wanted. And he listened. When I told him that I didn't want to be there, he asked the Revered Mother to let me join the Wardens. Well, she said no, of course."

"Why?"

He looked away. "I don't know, really. Maybe she just didn't want to lose anyone to the Wardens. Well, Duncan invoked the Right of Conscription and took me anyway. She wasn't pleased. But for the first time in my life, I felt free. I never knew my real family, and I felt like the people who had raised had me sent me away as soon as they could, just to be rid of me. And then I was stuck there, in that stupid room, in that stupid tower. So quiet. I hated it."

He chuckled to himself and then continued, "I used to yell until someone would come running to see what was wrong and then I would say, 'Just checking!' As I got older, I found that I actually enjoyed the training, though. And I was good at it, too. But I never wanted to be a Templar. I only kept up the training afterward because Duncan thought it would be useful against the darkspawn mages."

Sasha looked at him. She had never thought about it that way before. It sounded exactly as her life had been before she had met Duncan. Trapped in the tower with no thought of escaping, no chance at a normal life. Their destinies had been decided for them, and any chance at a future had been stripped away. Until Duncan came.

"He told me about you once, you know."

"Really?"

"Yes," she said, blushing a little as she thought back to their conversation.

"What did he say?"

"That you reminded him of himself when he was your age."

She looked at Alistair, who was looking down at his feet. She thought about what he had just said about his family. She wondered if he knew who his parents were. Duncan had said that he had known Alistair's father. But maybe now wasn't the best time to ask.

Alistair looked up suddenly and caught Sasha staring at him. She blushed and looked hurriedly away.

"Thank you," he said. "Really. That means a lot to me." 

"What in the blazes are you two doing back there?" came Morrigan's voice from ahead of them.

"What?!" Sasha started and actually jumped a little. Alistair laughed and she scowled at him.

"Nothing Morrigan," she called back and hurried forward to put some space between herself and Alistair while she tried to sort out her feelings.


	36. Memories

Alistair walked behind Sasha, watching and thinking. He was grateful to her for bringing up Duncan and for telling him what Duncan had said. It was the exact thing he had needed to hear at the time. He watched her, hips swaying as she walked, her long hair blowing in the breeze.

 _'You must protect her. I am leaving her in your care.'_ The words-and the promise behind them-stood out in his mind.

 _I will, Duncan,_ he thought solemnly. _I swear it._

They made camp the first night and Alistair stood watch while the others slept. Sasha seemed distant after their conversation and he didn't want to pressure her, so he sat with his back to the fire staring out into the night as the women busied themselves with rations and sleep, lost in his thoughts.

He didn't want her to know. Not yet. Was that so wrong? He just wanted her to get to know him as Alistair first.

 _She probably knows how I feel_ , he thought. Of the few people in the world who would, he was sure she was one of them. He recalled how some of the other Templars and Initiates had simply called their charges 'Mage!' just as they had called him a bastard. 

Night had come on in full when Alistair heard a sound behind him. He looked around and saw Sasha approaching him, wrapped in her blankets. He smiled at her in welcome and she smiled back, sitting down next to him.

"Do you want to get some rest?" she asked him. "I can't sleep."

"No, me either. I could use some company, though," he replied, looking over at her. "I've been meaning to talk to you, actually."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I've just been thinking. About Duncan and the Wardens. There are a lot of things they should have told you after your Joining, but with the battle and everything..."

"Duncan didn't tell me much."

"Did he tell you about the Calling?"

"No. What's that?"

Alistair looked at her, wondering how much she knew and how much he should tell her.

"Well, once the Joining is complete, the taint stays with us. Wardens usually only have about 30 or so years before they begin to hear the song of the Blight, which we call the Calling, telling them the taint is about to take them. Then they go to the Deep Roads, where they can die in battle like their brothers and sisters, fighting to the end."

"I--see."

After a long pause, Alistair continued hesitantly, "Did Duncan tell you he had begun to hear the Calling?"

"What?! What do you mean?"

Alistair looked at her. He didn't wish to bring her pain, but he thought that knowing might help her come to terms with his death. After all, as Duncan had told him moments before the battle, death was coming for him one way or another.

"Well, he told me before he left for the Circle that he had begun hearing it and that he was glad that at least he had many battles before him where could die fighting the Blight for true. And he did, you know?"

It made more sense to him now. For Duncan to allow himself to be with Sasha was uncharacteristic, but he must have known that he was looking at the end of his time in this world. With a life devoted entirely to the Wardens, even a man like Duncan might need a reminder of what he had spent his life fighting for, and what he would give his life to protect.

Sasha nodded her understanding and her thanks but was unable to reply. Alistair understood. Sasha leaned against Alistair and rested her head on his shoulder and he put his arm around her, resting his head on hers. They sat like that for a long time, weeping softly in memory of their friend.


	37. Lothering

The trio made their way to Lothering in just two days thanks to Morrigan, even though they were on foot. They stuck to the Wilds, sleeping in clearings they found along the way. Morrigan and Sasha cast protection spells around them each night to hide their presence from the darkspawn stragglers. They emerged from the Wilds toward the end of the second day and made their way into town. Things had changed in the short time between Sasha's last visit and this one. There were many times many refugees, but only a few Templars trying to keep order. None of the King's men would be left to help them, after all. And it wasn't as though Lothering had a militia of its own. 

They made their way to the inn only to find it overflowing as well. They decided to cast their tent in a neighboring field rather than try to find a place among all of the downtrodden townsfolk who had to resort to fighting over a spare bit of floor to sleep on. They did replenish their supplies and gather news, however. It seemed that they Grey Wardens had been blamed for the events on the field of battle. Loghain had led his men back to the Capital, not even leaving any to help his people. The first thing he did was to take the throne, declaring himself regent, and set a bounty on the heads of all the remaining Grey Wardens. The more news they heard, the more troubling it became. 

After the group settled in for the night, Alistair stole away to ask his own questions. He still hadn't told Sasha who he really was. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. Not yet. But he needed to know the fate of his Uncles. Arl Eamon and Bann Teagan had been kind to him as a boy, no matter what had happened later. He had to know that they were okay. He made his way back to the Inn once more, but before he could get there, a woman in Initiates robes stepped out into the lane in front of him.

"Hello, Grey Warden," she said. 

Alistair stopped in his tracks. They had been careful to tell no one their true identities once they had heard the news. Who was this person?

The woman threw her head back and laughed. She was very tall, very pale, and her hair was very red. Her eyes were a deep green. They twinkled in the moonlight. 

"Out so late on your own? Not wise in the current climate."

"Now, wait a moment--" Alistair began, but the woman cut him off again.

"Do not fear. I mean you no harm. I came to let you know that your group has been recognized. A few of Loghain's men were in the tavern and they spotted you. Apparently there is a bounty on your head, and that of your pretty little friend."

"Damn," Alistair swore under his breath. They would have to leave at once. He would have to wait until he got to Redcliffe to hear news of his family. He watched the woman warily. She seemed out of place wearing Initiates robes. He didn't know why, but they just didn't suit her somehow. 

"Who are you and why are you helping us?"

"My name is Leliana ," the woman replied. "I am helping you because I would like to come with you."

Alistair lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "You wish to become a Grey Warden? Now?"

Leliana laughed again. There was no warmth in it, though. It was as cold and sharp as a dagger.

"No. I do not wish to become a Grey Warden. I said that I wish to come with you. I can tell you no more just now. We are in danger here."

"But, how do I know that I can trust you? Maybe you just want to trick me into taking you back to our camp so that you can claim the bounty yourself."

It was Leliana's turn to raise her brows. "So you think that one, unarmed initiate could take on two mages and a Templar single-handed do you?" 

Alistair started. "How did you know that I was a Templar?"

Leliana shrugged. "I have spent time amongst the Templars. I know one when I see one. Perhaps it is something in the shoulders, or the way you hold your shield."

"I--see. Well, you make a good point. Although, you're about as much of an Initiate as I am."

Leliana laughed again and bowed her head to Alistair. "It seems that we both have something to hide."

Alistair eyed her warily. He didn't like the way that sounded. Should he recognize her from somewhere? The Chantry where he had grown up perhaps? But no, he couldn't place her there. Behind her, the door to the inn opened and several men came out. Alistair made his decision.

"Alright," he said. "You can come back with me, but then it is up to the group to decide from there."

"Fair enough," she replied. They faded into the shadows of the nearest building. It must have once been a farmhouse or a barn. There were plants scattered around here and there. Most of then were dead and rotting. The taint had begun to reach the town already. 

"Come," Leliana said softly, tapping him on the shoulder. "They are gone now."

"Just a moment," he said. She looked into his face for a moment, and then she nodded and went back to keep watch. 

He looked back at the house once more. At the tainted ground and the rotting plants and he thought of the same taint inside of himself. Inside of Sasha. It would slowly corrupt them from the inside out, leaving nothing but a decayed mess behind. This is why the Calling had been established. This is why Duncan had resigned himself to death. Alistair didn't know if that thought made it better or worse. He just knew that it hurt. Deeply. He had only ever wanted to do good. But in his own way. To find his own path and to make his own destiny. He had thought he had found that path. But now it was gone. Tears filled his eyes and he looked away. His glance landed on something different. Something not dead or dying, but lovely and proud. And dangerous. It was a single, red rose. The thorns had kept the wildlife from eating it with the rest, but soon it would be overtaken by the taint in the earth around it. He drew his dagger and stooped down and cut the rose at an angle, near the root, and then tucked it into his pouch. He felt better somehow.

"Let's go," he said and led the way back to camp.


	38. Leiliana

Alistair found Sasha and Morrigan sitting at a fire, where they had obviously noticed his absence. Sasha looked worried and Morrigan, annoyed. When he walked into sight, Sasha jumped to her feet and started toward him. But then she stopped abruptly when a second figure appeared behind him.

"So, there you are," Morrigan scowled from behind her. "Oh, and you've brought someone with you, I see."

"Yes," replied Alistair. "This is Leliana. She--Well, I'll let her tell you."

Leliana stepped forward and bowed her head to the group. She briefly told them about Loghain's men, who had noticed their group. Morrigan's reaction was the same as Alistair's.

"But who are you? And why are you helping us?"

Leliana paused for a long moment, staring at each of them in turn. Her gaze settled on Sasha and she seemed to come to a decision. She addressed herself to Sasha this time.

"My name is Leliana. I am from Orlais, as you can probably already tell from my accent. I--ran into some trouble there recently and came back to Ferelden. My mother was from Ferelden and I have always considered myself to be from here."

She paused, collecting her thoughts. "I have tried to make a change in my life since I came back to Ferelden. I joined the Chantry and there, I found stillness. And in that stillness, I heard the voice of the Maker."

Sasha glanced at Alistair, whose was eyeing Leliana with distrust.

"I had a dream," Leliana continued. “In it, there was an impenetrable darkness. It was so dense, so real. And there was a noise. A terrible, ungodly noise. I stood on a peak, and watched as the darkness consumed everything. And when the storm had swallowed the last of the sun’s light… I fell. And the darkness drew me in.”

The words brought a pang to Sasha, who shuddered. It hadn't been that long ago that she had experienced a dream of her own. One where she had stood on the peak of a tall mountain inside of a dark cavern filled with an Archdemon and hordes of darkspawn. Just who was this woman?

"Are you a Grey Warden?" Sasha asked Leliana, but she shook her head. 

"No, I am not. I know this sounds crazy, but I swear it wasn't a normal dream. It was--different--somehow."

Alistair raised his eyebrows in disbelief and Morrigan scoffed behind her, but Sasha looked into Leliana's eyes. She saw truth in them. And pain. The kind of pain that left deep scars. The kind she knew only too well. The scars of betrayal. The woman trusted no one, yet she was here. She was helping them. Sasha believed her.

Sasha nodded her head and Leliana let out a little sigh of relief. "You believe me, then?"

Sasha nodded again and Alistair shook his head.

"Well, we had better pack up," he sighed. "Those village idiots will try to surprise us if we stay too much longer and I don't feel like hurting anyone tonight."

Sasha grinned at him, then made her way to her bedroll and packed up. Leliana waited by the fire.

"Do you have nothing with you?" Sasha asked her when she had finished.

"I gave up all possessions when I joined the Chantry."

"Are you still a member then? If you're coming with us?"

Leliana frowned. "I hadn't really thought about it. I had intended to stay in the Chantry, try to live a peaceful life. But is seems that the Maker has other plans for me."

"I know the feeling," Sasha replied quietly and Leliana smiled.

"Well, I suppose I am an Initiate no longer, but we have no time to get supplies now. Where are we headed next?"

"Redcliffe. Alistair says that Arl Eamon was King Cailan's uncle."

Leliana opened her mouth, glanced over to where Alistair was packing up his gear, then shut it again.

"I see," she said. "Well, I can get some gear there, then. They have a blacksmith in the villiage."

Sasha nodded and they left soon after, traveling straight north to Redcliffe. They followed much the same path that Sasha and Duncan had followed on their way down from Kinloch Hold. Already, he was beginning to feel far away, like a dream. She was glad for his cloak, which she always wore.

As the group traveled, they could see the tower in the distance, looming gray and sorrowful over the green countryside. And now she had something new to worry about. Is this what she had left her life for? Left her friends for? She had almost believed that she would never see it again, and now it was all they _could_ see. It struck through the greens and blues of the surrounding land and sky like a horrible, gaping wound. Their eyes seemed constantly drawn by it.

Sasha became increasingly quiet the further North they traveled from Lothering. Alistair realized that they must be following the same route North that she and Duncan had taken South just a few short weeks before. At that moment, Alistair felt closer to Duncan than ever before. He wondered what Duncan would have done in his place, if things would be different. He looked at Sasha, redoubling his promise that he would protect her. For Duncan, of course. It would be wrong to be for any other reason, wouldn't it?

He also kept his eye out on the surrounding fields as they went. Not just for the darkspawn or for Loghain's men, but for assassins as well. Loghain had taken out King Cailan and placed himself on the throne. Whether Alistair had ever wanted it or not, he was not only the next in line but also the rightful heir to the throne.

He should tell Sasha. He knew that he should. And yet, he didn't. Before he knew it, they had arrived in Redcliffe and still, he had not told her. They were crossing the bridge above the town, looking down below. He expected it to be bustling, or at least a little bit animated. But it was not. He thought that it looked completely dead.

He had no idea how close he was to the truth.


End file.
